


The Bug Princess

by LadyNorbert



Series: Contractually Obligated Chaos [2]
Category: Beetlejuice (TV 1989), Beetlejuice - All Media Types
Genre: Adventure, Bugs & Insects, F/M, Fairy Tale Elements, Fantasy, New Orleans, Road Trips, Romance, Supernatural Elements, The Author Regrets Nothing, Wedding Planning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-10
Updated: 2016-03-12
Packaged: 2018-05-19 13:58:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 23
Words: 38,801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5969628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyNorbert/pseuds/LadyNorbert
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Four years after the events of Cinderjuice, Lydia's about to finish college. For her spring break, she and "BJ" head for New Orleans so she can photograph all the famous sights and cemeteries. But when they run into a well-meaning medium, magic goes just a little haywire. Very loosely inspired by The Princess and the Frog.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Little Smiles On Their Faces

**Author's Note:**

> First, my profound thanks to everyone who read and reviewed Cinderjuice. I was so completely shocked and blown away by the amount of positive feedback I received!
> 
> Special thanks go to Lais ("trashmudquinn" on Tumblr) and to AO3's own Bookworm Gal, both of whom were instrumental in helping me figure out the plot of this sequel. Thanks also to my best pal Andrea, who gave me an extra clue I needed, and to AddaTheRipper, who along with Lais is serving as beta reader. And to everyone else I met as a result of Cinderjuice.
> 
> This is loosely – and I do mean loosely – connected to Disney's The Princess and the Frog, which as you may know was originally called The Frog Princess. I'm not completely happy with the title, but it was the best I could find that wouldn't stray too far from the plot. As with the previous story, all the chapter titles will be quotes from that film; I won't be twisting any of them this time around, though, because that was actually much harder than I expected it to be.
> 
> This first chapter is dedicated as a thank-you to Megilien, a reader on the other site, who gave Cinderjuice the most incredible review. She mentioned wanting to see more of BJ and Lydia being, well, BJ and Lydia, so that's what you get here!

The sun was creeping through the window of Lydia Deetz's third-floor dormitory room. She was sprawled on her back, one arm draped over her eyes to block out the light; however, this did nothing to discourage the alarm clock. Moments later, the coffin popped open and a miniature version of Count Dracula sat up, cackling maniacally.

The pale arm which had been draped so languidly across her face reached over to slam the coffin, while the owner of both the arm and the alarm made a series of disgruntled noises.

"Don't people always say 'you can sleep when you're dead'?" she muttered. "They lie."

"But Babes, you're only halfway there!"

Startled, she gasped and sat up, looking around wildly. "Beetlejuice!"

He laughed, lounging in her mirror. "You should see your face!"

"Were you watching me sleep again? You know that's weird."

"You love weird," he reminded her. "But relax, Babes. I only popped in to make sure that you actually _went_ to sleep. No all-nighters, know what I mean?"

"I think I passed out around three," she admitted. "I was finishing my essay for Gothic lit."

"Well, you gonna let me in or not?"

"Beetlejuice…"

"That's my name." He smirked.

"Beetlejuice…" She dragged each syllable out a little longer.

He propped his elbow in the mirror frame, leaning his cheek on his hand and fluttering his eyelashes at her. "Saaaay iiiiiiit."

She finally smiled. "Beetlejuice."

"Yes!" He somersaulted through the glass with a faintly victorious pop.

Lydia yawned, shaking her head, and glanced at the time. "I'd better go get a shower. Class is in an hour, and then I have a newspaper staff meeting."

"Or you could ditch and spend the day with me."

"I could, but I won't, she replied, pulling on her bathrobe and gathering her clothes and shower caddy. "But you can hang out on campus and meet me for lunch. Besides, it's Friday."

"Ohh, weekend!"

"Right. And if I can get all my weekend homework done early…"

His eyes widened, and he gave her a delighted sort of grin. "Weekend in the Neitherworld?"

"Unless you had other plans?" she teased.

"Well, let me check my schedule." He pulled out a moldy date book and started leafing through the pages. "Let's see… meeting of the Sappy Face Ghouls at 5:30… putting a Gila monster in the Mayor's shorts at 7… tomorrow is Beetle Mania… Sunday I have an appointment at the slime spa for a massage and Dead Sea mud bath… I dunno, Babes, I'm pretty swamped."

"Oh, well. I'm sure I can find _someone_ to spend the weekend with."

"Well, hey!" He tossed the planner aside. "What fun would those things be without you anyway?"

She laughed. "All right, then. Just hang out until I get back."

* * *

Beetlejuice floated around the room a bit aimlessly. As a senior at a small arts college, Lydia enjoyed the luxury of a tiny, private dorm. This had the advantage of there being no roommate to be scared by an early morning poltergeist. Of course, for Beetlejuice, this was also something of a disadvantage; he had thoroughly enjoyed spooking her roommate the previous year. Or at least, he had enjoyed it right up until Lydia figured out what he was doing. The wife had been decidedly less than pleased.

He drifted over to her dresser, where several framed photographs seemed to jockey with one another for pride of place. Most were pictures Lydia had taken herself, like one of that stupid tree they'd relocated to the playground, and one of Doomie and Pinky, and a few creepy landscapes of places they'd visited (usually in the Neitherworld). Others had her in them – standing with her parents at her high school graduation, and visiting Burp and Prune at their school in the fall.

He was rather fond of the one on her bedside table, which was of Lydia with his human persona, "BJ." They were sitting on the porch of her home in Peaceful Pines, and his arm was around her shoulders as they smiled ridiculously at Charles, who was the photographer. Beetlejuice had never expected to enjoy pretending to be half of a cutesy human couple, but dang if it didn't confuse people, and there were very few things he liked better than laughing at other people's confusion. It was almost as much fun as putting snakes in Delia's hair. Almost.

He was startled out of his ruminations by the sound of a voice at the door. "I'm telling you, I heard a man talking!"

"You've said so many times, and we've never found any proof," replied another voice. This one sounded older, and wearier. He snickered to himself, recognizing them; one of Lydia's neighbors was constantly trying to prove that she had an unregistered male guest in the room (which, to be sure, she often _did_ ), and the resident advisor was getting tired of it.

Before anything else could happen, he heard Lydia's voice joining them. "Is there a problem, ma'am?"

"Don't act so innocent!" said the neighbor girl. "I know your boyfriend is in there!"

"He's not, but you're welcome to see that for yourself," she replied. Her voice was slightly louder, and he knew she was trying to warn him. Not that she needed to worry; as the door unlocked, Beetlejuice transformed himself into an oddly colored teddy bear, and lay tangled in her cobweb-patterned sheets.

"See, Tara? There's no one here," said the clearly annoyed RA. "I'm sorry we bothered you, Lydia."

"It's fine," she replied, hanging up her robe. "Actually, I think I know what Tara might have heard." She crossed to the bed and picked up Beetle-bear. "BJ got him for me – he talks. See?" She squeezed his paw.

"Hi, how ya doin'?"

Tara gave a small shriek. "That is the ugliest thing I've ever seen!"

"Really? I think he's cute."

"I am not cute!" he protested. _Oops._

Lydia laughed nervously. "He responds to certain voice commands and phrases," she explained, sitting down on the bed with him still in her arms. "So it probably sounded like I was having a conversation."

"I see. Well, thank you, Lydia," said the RA, nodding. "I think we've taken enough of your time this morning. Come along, Tara."

Lydia managed – just barely – to wait until they were out of earshot before she started giggling, and Beetlejuice was quick to join her. She flopped onto her back after a moment, just sort of hugging him and trying to catch her breath. "Nice disguise," she managed.

"I should have thought of this ages ago, Lyds! I could have been creeping out your whole wing all this time!" She chuckled and propped him up on her stomach so he was able to see her face. "What's Tara's beef with you anyway?"

"Nothing personal. But ever since she was caught having _her_ boyfriend stay over without following protocol, she's been trying to get one of us in the same hot water. She does it to everybody, not just me. I guess she's hoping that they'll lift her ban on male visitors if she can prove she's not the only guilty one."

"Well, technically, she's not," he pointed out with a teddy bear smirk.

" _I_ know that, but _they_ don't need to know it."

"Lydia Deetz, breaking the rules! I've been such a bad influence." He grinned slyly. "Hehehe. Good."

"Oh, shush." She sat up and made her bed, which was actually fairly impressive since she was still holding Beetle-bear in one arm. "Now, can you keep yourself out of trouble until I meet BJ for lunch?"

"Do I have to?"

"Yes."

"Or what?"

"Or you don't get your anniversary present. You didn't forget, did you?"

"Of course not! It's on Monday – only thing happening this week that's more exciting than Beetle Mania!"

"Thanks, I think." She smiled, however. "And it's a big one, too – ten years since the day we met! We'll have to do something really special this weekend to celebrate."

"Got it covered, Lyds, don't worry."

"Great. Okay, I've got to get to class." He pouted at her, which only made her laugh, although he couldn't help being placated by the quick kiss she dropped on his plush head as she settled him on her pillow. Scooping up her books and camera, she started for the door. "Oh, and Beetlejuice…"

"Yeah?"

She glanced back over her shoulder. "You're my idiot."

"You know it, Babes."


	2. Friends on the Other Side

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beetlejuice promised Lydia that he'd taken care of their big anniversary celebration, and he did - though not quite the way she expected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's going to take a while for the plot to even remotely resemble The Princess and the Frog. It'll get there eventually, but there's other things to be gotten out of the way first.
> 
> I apologize for how long this has taken. To paraphrase from something I saw on Tumblr, real life got a little too real lately. But my beta readers have been diligently looking over everything and keeping me focused as best they can!
> 
> As I so often do with some of my larger fanworks, I will be ending this story with a FAQ chapter where I answer any questions anyone asks in their reviews. So if you have questions as the story goes, feel free to leave them for me to answer.

 

Lydia was looking forward to the weekend in the Neitherworld. With her course load being what it was, she generally only allowed herself one lengthy trip there per month, and even that was often cut short by schoolwork or the occasional extracurricular. She missed her car, she missed her friends, and if Beetlejuice hadn't been able to spend as much time in the Outerworld as he did, she would have been pretty miserable. So she was eager to go.

It had come as something of a surprise that she could travel to the Neitherworld from college with the same ease by which she reached it from Peaceful Pines. After all, her school was a few states away. But the B-words had lost none of their effectiveness despite the distance, and Lydia could count on them bringing her directly to the Roadhouse, or wherever Beetlejuice happened to be, regardless of her starting point.

"I guess," he'd said, when she asked him about it, "the juice works like a homing device or something. The chunk of it that's in you knows how to find the rest of it." He gestured vaguely at himself. "Probably why we can't be split up for very long, or at least part of the reason."

"I guess that makes sense. And when the Fairy Godfather gave you some of my humanity, maybe it strengthened it."

"And we lived sappily ever after," he noted with a smirk.

* * *

 

They took a leisurely stroll back to the Roadhouse on Sunday afternoon, following the Dead Sea mud bath and massage. "That was the most relaxing thing I've ever experienced," Lydia remarked, sighing.

"Know what you mean, Babes. I'm like a limp noodle right now!"

"Yeah, I - Beetlejuice, if I turn around right now, am I going to see you lying on the ground as an actual limp noodle?"

"Uh. Yeah."

She did turn around, and shook her head, smiling. "Hey, here's a question I've been meaning to ask," she mused. "Do you think if I said something like that, I'd change shape too?"

"Probably not, but why?" He returned to his usual form, his expression curious (and perhaps slightly diabolical).

"Oh, no reason. I just thought it might be kind of fun to actually use your magic for different things."

"Well, y'know, if you wanna look different I guess I could put a little hex on you. More than I already have, I mean."

She laughed. "That's not a bad idea, really. Maybe we should try it."

"...seriously?"

"Think about it. When you come to the Outerworld, you turn into BJ. Maybe I should look different when I come to the Neitherworld." She grinned. "A bit less _alive_ , you know."

"So, you want me to make a few changes to your ghoulish figure, hmm?" He circled her a few times, studying her thoughtfully.

"Yeah. I mean, maybe not right now. I want to think about it a little more. But you could do it, right?"

"Lyds! How you wound me!" he said dramatically, pressing a hand to his chest and looking forlorn. Resuming his normal tone, he continued, "Of course I could do it. Just say the word." They had reached the Roadhouse, and as they made their way up to its unwelcome mat, he added, "Speaking of words, Wifey-Babes, I have a word for you."

"Oh?" She eyed him quizzically; he employed that particular endearment somewhat sparingly, so she wondered if there was a reason for it. "What word is that?"

Smirking, he flung open the door. "Surprise!"

Lydia peered into the room and started to laugh. There were a handful of characters jammed into the space, along with balloons and a big cake adorned with the number 10. "When you said you had the anniversary celebration covered, I wasn't expecting this," she murmured. "You even invited your brother?"

"Heck no. He just showed up."

They stepped into the Roadhouse proper, and those assembled started cheering. "Happy anniversary!" "Congratulations!" "Tarhooties!"

It wasn't a terribly large gathering; Beetlejuice didn't like enough of his fellow Neitherworld citizens to invite very many of them, nor was he liked enough in return to induce most of them to accept. But Jacques and Ginger were there, loyal to him despite so many years of his affectionate torment. The guests also included the Monster Across the Street and his girlfriend, Prince Vince, Flubbo, and of course Donny.

"I wouldn't dream of missing my brother and sister's special day!" he cried, striding toward them with his arms outstretched. Lydia diverted him slightly, accepting the hug she knew Beetlejuice wouldn't want. "Mother and Dad send their best, they're so pleased for you both."

"Thanks, Donny."

"My dear friends, congratulations," said Prince Vince warmly, stepping forward to shake hands with them both. "I declared today to be a national holiday in honor of the occasion!"

"You - you did?" Lydia was genuinely startled by that. "I hardly know what to say, Prince Vince. That's so flattering."

"I must admit, Mayor Maynot gave me the idea. His actual suggestion was that we give you a medal, Lydia."

"A medal?" she repeated.

"As he put it, anyone who willingly puts up with Beetlejuice's antics for ten years deserves one."

"Hey!"

The prince chuckled. "I thought the holiday seemed like a gentler alternative. And I composed a sonnet for you, too, but I'll let you read that later."

"Small favors," Beetlejuice muttered, for her ears only.

* * *

 

Some little while later, as the party was in full swing, Lydia found herself sitting alone with Ginger and a piece of cake. The Monsters were dancing, Jacques and Flubbo were chatting with the prince, and Beetlejuice was nosing through the small pile of anniversary gifts they'd received, with Donny at his elbow. "Ten years," said the spider, shaking her head. "Where does the time go?"

"I know what you mean." Lydia chuckled. "It seems to have flown."

"You've actually been a good influence on Beetlejuice, you know. More than I ever thought anyone could be."

"I've certainly _tried_." She laughed. "He does seem like he's improved a little over the years. Just sort of polished off the roughest of his rough edges."

"Especially these last few years, since the whole contract thing," Ginger noted. "Does that feel weird? Knowing you've got some of his magic and he's got some of your - whatever you want to call it?"

"It's weird if I think about it too much," she acknowledged. "Mostly it's just kind of reassuring, in a way. I've always known he'll be there for me, but now I really know it."

Their discourse was interrupted by a horrified yelp from the gift table. "Somebody around here has a sick sense of humor!"

"That would be _vous_ , Be-attle-juice," Jacques deadpanned.

"No, really! Who gave us a trip to _the Resort of Last Resort_ as an anniversary gift?!"

"Oh, Uncle Sid and Aunt Irma sent that for you," said Donny. "I guess they were hoping you'd visit."

"Figures. It's not happening!"

The party noise returned to its previous level, and Lydia finished her cake. "By the way, Lydia, what did Beetlejuice get you?" Ginger asked.

"Don't know yet," she admitted. "He said I can't have it until tomorrow, which is the actual anniversary. So I'm not letting him have his until then either."

"What'd you get him?"

"I made him a photo album. Ten years' worth of pictures takes a long time to go through! But I think I picked out the best ones." With a smile, she added, "So far, anyway."

* * *

 

"Say, do ya mind if I ask a question?" Donny inquired, when a lull came in the conversation.

"Yes," Beetlejuice muttered.

Lydia elbowed him gently. "Go ahead, Donny."

"Well, tomorrow's ten years since the day you two first met, and I was just wondering...how did you meet?"

"You know," ventured Prince Vince, "I wouldn't mind hearing that story either. I've never quite gotten the straight of it."

"Oh, well, if it's a _story_ you all want..." Beetlejuice, lounging in midair, sat up a bit straighter. "Leave it to me! I remember it all just as if it were a carefully constructed flashback!"


	3. Seems Like Only Yesterday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beetlejuice and Lydia recount the details of their first meeting. The accuracy of the telling is somewhat debatable...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And now for something completely different. When I first wrote this, I jokingly called it chapter 2.5, but it became so long that it definitely had to be its own chapter. The cartoon didn't give us any explanation for how they met, so I invented my own, with help from Bookworm Gal.
> 
> As for what Beetlejuice is implying at the end of the chapter, I'm leaving that open to your own interpretation.

_Beetlejuice coughed dramatically, and began his narration..._

I had gotten into trouble, which I guess doesn't really come as much of a surprise to anyone. They found me guilty of putting a Gila monster in the mayor's shorts - I think this was the first time, and may I point out, the only time I've ever actually been caught in the act. Anyway, they thought they'd put one over on me by sentencing me to haunt a house. Joke was, it was an empty house.

At least, it was empty when I started.

I remember complaining about it to Jacques and Ginger. "They sent me to haunt a house with nobody living in it! There's nobody to scare! What's the point?"

"To drive you crazy, I suspect, Be-attle-juice," Jacques replied.

"Well, they're about five hundred years late for that," I grumbled. "It's ridiculous. There's a big mirror in the attic, and I can go right up to it and look around, but I can't even really do more than that because there's no way to trick anyone into saying my name. I can get about halfway out of the glass, just far enough to freak out a couple of mice."

But as luck would have it, a couple of weeks after I started my spooking sentence, I heard the sounds of people down below. Someone was moving in. Finally, I could show them just who was the Ghost With the Most, and maybe send them packing!

* * *

 

"Wait a minute," Lydia interrupted. "You were _actually_ going to try to scare us out of the house?"

"Well, that was the original plan, Babes," he admitted. "I hadn't met you yet, remember?"

"Fair enough, I guess. Go on then."

* * *

 

Anyway, I heard this guy talking. "Don't worry, Pumpkin, you're going to love it here! I'll set up a darkroom for you in the basement and you can take all kinds of pictures. Won't that be fun?"

"Sure, Dad. It sounds great." And the door opened, and I heard a little shriek. "Oh, Dad, I love that mirror! Can I have it for my room? It'll be perfect on my dresser."

"It's got...bats on it, Lydia. Are you sure?"

"Yes! It's great!"

"Well...all right, I guess, if you like it that much. Let's take it downstairs."

So I was moved out of the attic and into a kid's room. I admit, I got a little distracted by everything and sort of forgot to be scary. This kid seemed kinda cool - spiderweb curtains and a whole bunch of horror books on the shelf, stuff like that.

And then, while I was still scoping out the bedroom, the door opened and I saw Lyds for the first time. She was tiny and pale and a little sad, and sat down on the bed right in front of me.

"Hey, kid," I said, "why the long face?"

She gasped and looked around wildly. "Who said that?"

"Me! Here in the mirror!"

I expected her to scream, so when she didn't I had to admit I was impressed. "Deadly vu! You're - what are you? Are you a ghost?"

"Babes, I'm the Ghost With the Most!"

She giggled. "The most what?"

I started to answer, then paused. "Y'know, I'm not sure how to explain it. Oh well. Who are you?"

"I'm Lydia. My family just moved here. Are you sure you're a ghost? You're not weird enough to be a ghost."

"Hey, what are you talking about? Who else could do...this?" And I spun my head around and screamed.

She still wasn't scared. "Okay, I take it back! You're definitely a ghost, and that might be the coolest thing I've ever seen."

"Kid, you ain't seen nothing yet! Suppose you let me out of this here mirror, and I'll show you all kinds of stuff."

"Okay...what would I have to do?"

"You'd have to say my name three times. Here's the thing, though; I'm not allowed to tell you my name. You're gonna have to guess."

She gave me this absolutely deadpan look.

* * *

 

He glanced at Lydia, and pointed. "That one. Right there. That was the expression."

"Beetlejuice..."

"Whaaaat?"

"You know that's not exactly how it went."

"Oh come on, Babes! I'm just trying to get to the good part!"

"What's he leaving out, Lydia?" Ginger wanted to know.

"Well, first he tried a lot harder to scare me," she replied, trying to scowl. Her expression was slightly too affectionate for it to be convincing. "And when that didn't work, he asked if we had any bugs crawling around the house. I like bugs, so I didn't understand what he was asking exactly."

"I like bugs too," he protested. "Especially for dinner. All right, she's got a point; I did try to scare her, which is how I found out that Lyds doesn't scare easily."

"Well, zat we knew," Jacques interjected. "Look who she married!"

"Yeah," said Flubbo with a snicker. "If the idea of being bonded to _you_ for eternity didn't scare her, what possibly _could_?"

"There are a few things," Lydia replied composedly, "none of which I'm going to talk about today."

"Well, the long and short of it is that I was able to get her to learn my name. And I came out of the mirror for the first time, and..." He hesitated. "Lyds, you wanna take over?"

"Okay, but why?"

"I just feel like you're gonna tell it better."

* * *

 

All right, well, Beetlejuice and I got to know each other. I told him about my life - I was eleven years old, about to turn twelve, and we'd just moved to this very quiet town for the sake of my father's nerves. My mother died when I was pretty small, and Dad had remarried when I was six; I call Delia my mom because she's the only mother I can remember. We're very different, but she's a good person at heart.

He told me about his afterlife, like that he'd been dead for several hundred years, and he was friends with Shakespeare. I wasn't sure I believed that at the time, but it turned out to be true, as I learned later. He was considered the least liked guy in the whole Neitherworld because he pulled the best pranks. Actually, everything he told me that day sooner or later turned out to be the truth - which, when you consider Beetlejuice's track record with honesty, is pretty impressive.

_(He was hovering near her chair with a grumpy expression on his face, so she paused the narrative and patted his head.)_

Anyway, it was getting to be about dinnertime, so he was getting ready to leave, and I asked him, "Will I see you again?"

He just looked so surprised - like he couldn't believe someone would want to spend time with him. "Really?"

"Yeah! I mean...yeah. You're funny. And you're the only friend I've got right now."

"Friend, huh?" He looked even more surprised. But his expression kind of softened, and he said, "Tell you what, Lyds. Any time you wanna talk to me, you just say the B-words. It's a magic charm, it'll pull me to wherever you are."

"Really?"

"Really. You get lonely, or you're in trouble, just say the words and the Ghost With the Most will answer. Okay? You need me, I'll be here."

I didn't know whether I could believe that, but I wanted to believe it. But it's been ten years, and he's kept that promise every day since.

* * *

 

"Awwww!" Ginger squealed. "That's so sweet, Beetlejuice!"

"It's not sweet! I don't do sweet!"

"You're not fooling anybody," the spider retorted. "I remember talking about it with Jacques. You started getting twitchy if she went too long without calling you."

"He still does that," Lydia noted with a wry smile. He grumbled, but - being unable to articulate a convincing denial - folded his arms and said nothing.

"We'd known him for years already at that point, and we'd never seen him act that way. We're used to it now, but at the time it was so funny to see him fussing."

"I remember ze next bit, I think," said Jacques. "When he brought _vous_ to ze Neitherworld for ze first time, Lydia."

"That was actually quite a few weeks later," she replied. "For obvious reasons, I couldn't have Beetlejuice at my twelfth birthday party, and since we were still so new in town I hadn't really made any friends yet, so it was a really quiet birthday. Just my parents and me. The next day, though, he brought me to the Neitherworld for the first time and... well, I had never seen anything so freaky and amazing. And I got to meet all of you! I mean, not right away, but eventually. The only problem was that sometimes I just never wanted to go home. Sometimes I still don't, to be honest!"

There was a general chuckle. "And now, ten years later, you go back and forth - you both go back and forth, as far as that goes," Prince Vince amended, "as often as you please. I must admit, Beetlejuice, I didn't expect you to enjoy the terms of the Fairy Godfather's contract quite as much as you do. You spend almost as much time in the Outerworld as you do in the Neitherworld, these last few years."

"Well, you know," he said with a shrug, hovering just out of Lydia's reach, "the Neitherworld is pretty great. That said, being human sometimes does have its advantages - but if you don't know what they are, _I'm_ not gonna tell you."

"Beetlejuice!" She swatted futilely, and he laughed at her.

"What? Just tellin' it like it is, Babes!"

"Do you know what he meant by that?" Donny murmured to Prince Vince in a low voice.

"No...and I have a very strong feeling that we don't _want_ to know."


	4. Hitching Ties You Down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beetlejuice gives Lydia her anniversary gift. It's nothing big; in fact, it's quite small.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special thanks to BookwormGal, who sent me the information about green locust trees found in this chapter. As soon as she told me what they meant, I knew I had to use it in this story and just how I wanted to do it.
> 
> I don't even know if he's in character anymore, sometimes, but I hope he is. I like him, anyway.
> 
> And if you're curious about dragon's blood opal, do an image search; it's magnificent.

 

Monday saw Lydia back at school, and hard at work once again on her senior projects. She didn't always tell Beetlejuice exactly what she was doing, and by this point he'd sort of stopped asking. It didn't entirely matter to him, really, as long as a) she was happy and b) he could tag along when he had nothing better to do... which he usually didn't.

Oh, he had other things he could be doing. Of course he did. He just had his preferences.

The only thing he understood for sure about her plans for Monday afternoon was that she needed to be off campus. To his way of thinking, her telling him that was practically an invitation. Good thing, too, since he still had to give her that anniversary present he'd promised; it was practically burning a hole in his pocket.

"Well, Doomeroo," he said languidly to the car, "should we go drive your mother crazy?"

"R-r-r."

"Mm, true. If that were going to happen, it probably would have happened a long time ago. How about we go drive her around instead?"

"Meep meep!"

* * *

 

He was leaning (in BJ form, of course) against the side of the cheerful convertible when Lydia exited her dormitory. She had her camera around her neck, a notebook and some other book tucked under her arm, and was buttoning a sweater against the mid-spring chill. She seemed lost in thought, and started walking away as though she hadn't even seen him.

"Babes! What's your hurry?"

"Gotta catch the b-" She glanced back. "BJ!"

"You already caught him. Come and get him."

She laughed, changing direction immediately and hurrying over to give Doomie a pat. "I wondered why there was no answer when I looked in the mirror. This explains it. I left your anniversary gift on the bed in case you turned up while I was gone."

"Knew you were heading out and about today, so our boy and I thought we'd come and chauffeur," he explained, opening the passenger door. "Unless you'd rather drive, that is." Not that either one of them really had to do a lot of paying attention to the road when the car gave a new meaning to the concept of autopilot.

"Sure, I'll drive. Feels like forever since I was behind the wheel, I hope I remember how," she said playfully.

"So where we headed?"

"State game lands, not too far." As they pulled out onto the road, she started to explain. "My current photo assignment is about finding the hidden meaning in things. So I got this book from the library that talks all about the language of flowers."

"Floral-ese?" he guessed, arching an eyebrow.

"Not that kind of language." She laughed again. "For centuries people assigned meanings to different flowers and other plants, and then they'd send each other bouquets that worked like secret messages. It was really popular with the Victorians - you know how much I love all that stuff - but it goes back way farther than that. So I'm going to take pictures of a few of the plants at the state game lands, and explain what they mean."

"Sounds like a plan. So then, tell me, Babes - what does _this_ mean?" He shifted back into Beetlejuice for a moment, and spun his head around, shrieking.

She glanced at him, then back at the road. "If I ever figure that out, I'll let you know," she replied dryly.

* * *

 

"The only problem with doing this at this time of the year is that a lot of the flowers haven't really come up yet," Lydia noted as they walked over the grounds. The park to which she'd driven them had a large fenced-in garden, which included a frog-infested pond and a little waterfall and plenty of handily-identified plants, but she had a point; there were very few flowers in evidence.

"Well, do they have to be flowers?"

"No, not necessarily." She smirked a little. "Dead leaves, for example, represent sadness. That's not too hard to understand."

"Guess not." He was leafing through her library book. "Lessee here... hmm, that yellow thing over there." He pointed at a bush. "Looks like this one - forsythia. Anticipation."

"Oh, right! The forsythia always blooms early. I remember my grandfather talking about it when I was a kid, they were his favorite." She zoomed in on a delicate yellow flower.

"And it looks like there's a lot of trees in this book," he mused. "So there you go."

"You've come a long way when it comes to helping me with my homework," she teased.

"Hey, I've learned my lesson. The sooner you finish your homework, the sooner you're free to get into trouble with me!"

"I don't think I realized how much you've changed in ten years."

"Nuh-uh." He held out the book, pointing at an image of bay leaves. "See? 'I change but in death.' Though I guess coming partway back to life might have had its influence..."

She chuckled. "All right. Let's see what we have here."

* * *

 

They tracked down a larch ("audacity"), a black poplar ("courage"), and a juniper ("protection"). "That's four," Lydia mused. "I think I'd like just one more to round things out. There are some locust trees over here, what do they mean?"

"Mm... depends, Lyds. Are they locusts or green locusts?"

"What's the difference?"

He showed her the page in the book. "Frankly, your guess is as good as mine. I don't understand these green things."

She took the book and studied it, smiling faintly. "I almost want to say they're green locusts just because of the meaning - 'affection beyond the grave' sounds familiar, wouldn't you say?" She moved to sit on one of the low benches scattered throughout the garden, setting her camera aside for the moment.

BJ chuckled, admiring the sunlight on her bent head, and fumbled in his pocket. Well, this was probably the best moment; the book had even given him an opening. "Hey, speaking of affection beyond the grave, happy anniversary. Gimme your hand."

"Hmm?" She had the book on her knees and, somewhat distractedly, extended her right hand toward him.

"Other hand, Babes."

"Oh, sure." Lydia flipped the page and offered her left instead, palm up. He stifled a laugh and gently turned it over, even while sliding something onto the third finger. "BJ, what..." She finally looked up, her concentration broken by the addition of the small weight, and her voice quite simply died. For a moment, it seemed like she could only stare; he hoped it was a good staring.

The ring was an antique, at least to judge by the delicate silver filigree design. At the center was an oval stone, a deep enigmatic swirl of reddish-purple, with tiny glints like trapped stars. "It's like there's a universe in there," she breathed. "What is it?"

"They call it dragon's blood opal. Sounded right up your alley." He watched her, smiling slightly, as she studied the gift "You like it?"

"I love it. But should I be worried about how you got this?" Lydia teased, setting aside the book and standing to face him.

"I didn't bleed any dragons, if that's what you mean. If you have to know the truth, a certain royal friend of ours felt the need to stick his nose into the whole thing. He helped me track it down."

Her expression turned serious, and she studied the ring for another moment before meeting his gaze. "Is this what I think it is?"

He shrugged, fidgeting slightly. "At this point I figure it's just a formality. But... yeah." A smirk played on his lips as he added, "One condition though, Babes."

"I'm almost afraid to ask..."

"I wanna be there when you Skype Chuckles and Delia to give 'em the news."

She laughed. "Idiot mine, you've got a deal," she said, and kissed him.


	5. Promise Your Daddy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lydia keeps the promise she made to BJ at the end of the previous chapter. Charles and Delia respond to the news in...predictable ways.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, Charles. It's always a little tricky writing from his point of view, but so many people liked my giving him a narrative chapter in Cinderjuice that I thought it made sense to bring him back.
> 
> And if you think Delia's going to give Lydia massive headaches...boy howdy are you right.

It had been a wrench for Charles that his daughter went to college so far away.

True, in some ways it hadn't been very different. Sometimes, when things seemed too quiet, he could pretend to himself that she was up in her room reading Poe, or down in the basement using the old darkroom equipment. Lydia had often gone off doing her own thing, and he was used to that. But she always came back; sometimes it took longer than he would have expected, but sooner or later she resurfaced with a bright, cheerful look on her face.

Lydia off at college took some serious mental adjustment. The fact that BJ more or less went with her didn't entirely help. Mr. Beetleman had put in one of his vanishingly rare appearances not long after they left, fixing a rail post on the porch that Charles hadn't even noticed was broken.

"Those kids of ours," he had remarked, with his unnatural cackling laugh. "Your Lyds is all my boy can talk about sometimes! She's good for him, gotta say. Glad they've got each other to keep company at school, eh, Chuckie?"

"Eh... Right."

 _He's adopted_ , he reminded himself. _The boy is adopted._ He'd never gotten official confirmation of that fact, but he was convinced nevertheless - BJ could not possibly be this man's biological child. How someone as patently bizarre as Mr. Beetleman had managed to bring up such a pleasant son was beyond him; it was one of the strongest arguments he'd ever encountered for the idea of nature over nurture. But the truth was, and he was reluctant to admit it, he actually kind of liked the kid. True, he was a little peculiar, but he was well-mannered, cheerful, and seemed to regard Lydia as the approximate center of his universe. And Charles had had almost four years to get used to his presence, four years in which Lydia had been without question happier than he'd ever seen her.

* * *

 

That didn't mean he was completely prepared to see BJ in Lydia's weekly Skype call, however.

He sat down at the computer with Delia, and at the usual time, his daughter's smiling face appeared inside the monitor. "Hi Dad, hi Mom!"

"Hi sweetheart! Oh - hi, BJ!" Delia said. "What have you two kids been up to lately?"

They exchanged such an unusual look that Charles was instantly filled with a strange dread. He was intimately acquainted with various sensations of anxiety, but this was new. He had now been a father for 21 years, 22 as of the coming summer, and the notion that he _could_ feel a new kind of anxiety was not remotely comforting.

"Well, we have something to tell you," said Lydia.

"She made me promise I wouldn't ask you first," BJ added. "But..."

They exchanged another look, which he could only describe as mildly apprehensive, and Charles suddenly knew _exactly_ what was happening. It wasn't a thought, precisely; he could feel the comprehension dawning rather than consciously understand the situation. "Oh."

Sure enough, Lydia - with an almost sheepish, slightly embarrassed smile - held up her left hand. The ring was unusual, to say the least - definitely not a diamond, nothing even remotely traditional about it. Somehow, though, it seemed perfectly appropriate. He tried to find the words to say as much.

Of course, before he could articulate anything, Delia's response was to utter an ungodly high-pitched shriek, clapping her hands delightedly. "Oh, how exciting! We'll have so much fun planning the wedding, Lydia! I can hardly wait, what a perfect outlet for my creativity!"

Charles glanced at his wife, then back at the computer screen. Lydia's dark liquid eyes had widened, her pale cheeks losing what little color they had. "Uh... Yeah, Mom, it'll be great. But you know, we - we didn't set a date or anything, I still have to finish school..."

"Oh, there'll be time for all that! We'll figure out the perfect day to have the wedding! Maybe something in the late summer. Oh, I've got to go into town! I'll pick up all the bridal magazines they have at the store and start getting ideas!" She didn't even wait to finish out the call - she fluttered out of the room almost immediately, still squealing and muttering to herself.

Charles rubbed the bridge of his nose, then looked at his daughter. "Well, uh. Congratulations, you two."

"Thanks, Dad."

"Did, uh, did you tell your...father, BJ?"

"Oh, uh -" He rubbed the back of his neck. "I'm going to call him when I get back to my room. But I know he'll be thrilled; he thinks the world of Lyds."

She smiled at that. "Hey, Beej, could you do me a favor? Would you run down to the common area and bring me a soda?"

She gave him a look, which he apparently understood, because he just nodded. "Sure, Lyds. Talk to you soon, Mr. D."

"Bye." Once the boy was clearly out of the room, Charles looked seriously at his daughter. "Are you happy, honey?"

"Yeah, of course. But are you okay, Dad? I know you don't like surprises too much."

"Oh, I'm fine, Pumpkin. It's...not that much of a surprise, if I think about it."

"Really?"

He shook his head. "You're a smart girl. I trust your judgment. And... I may not be exactly happy about it, but..."

"But?" She looked a little worried still, which made him feel almost ashamed. Trust his Lydia to set aside her feelings on the occasion to worry about him.

"I've got nothing against BJ. I don't really like his father, you know that, but he's a nice kid. And..." He grimaced, forcing himself to admit the truth. "He really loves you. I can't complain too much about that."

Lydia smiled warmly. "Thanks, Daddy."

"Just...don't be in a rush to make me a grandpa, okay?"

"I promise."

* * *

 

It was maybe four hours later that Delia returned from her shopping trip. Charles cringed, imagining Lydia's distress if she could only see what was going on.

"I had to go all the way to the city for these things!" She was busily unloading cartons of magazines, fabric swatches, brochures for venues and disc jockeys, and flyers related to upcoming bridal showcases. "It's really the wrong time of year for wedding planning - it seems like every possible place for a reception is booked solid for at least the next year and a half - I wonder what Lydia would think if we just had the reception on the lawn? We've certainly got enough room, but the hill makes it difficult for dancing."

"Delia..."

"Of course I don't know who we can possibly get to attend a wedding out here in the middle of nowhere. As soon as we can get the kids to commit to a date I'll start designing invitations - this will be the most fun I've had since the last Halloween party we threw!"

"Delia..."

"Charles, honestly, it's like you're not even excited!"

"I'm excited! But Delia, they've only just gotten engaged. Let them enjoy that for a while, okay? Lydia still has to finish school, find a job, get her own place... she's got a lot on her plate, planning a wedding might be a bit too much for her just now."

"Well, that's what I'm here for! I'll handle all those pesky wedding details so she doesn't have to worry about it! Everything's going to be perfect, you'll see. She'll like it." She sat down and opened one of the magazines. "Hmm... I wonder how she feels about hoop skirts."

Charles quietly excused himself to go take an antacid.

* * *

 

Exactly what pretext Mr. Beetleman found to put in an appearance the next day, Charles didn't know. He was even less certain why Delia kept hiring the guy; he wasn't exactly the most skilled handyman, although everything he fixed did actually seem to work afterward. "So! Heard the news, eh, Chuck?"

"The - oh, about the kids. Yes."

"Knew that was just a matter of time. I guess Mrs. D's got her dander up about planning the whole thing, huh?"

In spite of himself, Charles had to chuckle. "That's one way to put it."

"Well, I'm sure the girls'll come up with something where everybody has a good time!"

"You got married a few years ago, didn't you? Maybe I should have Delia talk to your wife." What possessed him to say this, even he wasn't sure, except that the idea of distracting his wife a little was very appealing. Even if it involved the Beetlemans.

"Oh, well, mine wasn't a very traditional wedding. Just signed the papers and done, that kind of thing, you know? And the missus is out of town right now anyway. But when she gets back I'll see what she says about helping with the plans."

"Great."


	6. Bring Your Paintbrush...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The strain is starting to get to Lydia. Fortunately, she has the best medicine at hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was written for Lais, my dear Lydia-cosplaying beta reader, in honor of her birthday. She loves BJ/Lyds cuteness, so I stuffed in as much as I could. I didn't expect him to do what he did toward the end, but let's be honest, I probably should have.

Beetlejuice was amused by the concept of spring break. Lydia - being Lydia - had, for her first three years of college, spent the ten-day stretch each year in the Neitherworld. They'd loaded Doomie's trunk, said goodbye to the neighbors, and taken both cars on various sightseeing expeditions. For her junior year, they'd gone all the way to Menace Beach, one of the premier vacation destinations of the Neitherworld's upper crust, which turned out to be just a little too well-named for their liking. It had been memorable, anyway.

This year, however, she was so distracted that he was starting to suspect she might have forgotten she was even supposed to _take_ a holiday.

Part of it was her schoolwork, of course. That was to be expected - exam preparation, final year, lots to do, so on and so forth. She'd warned him about that, and for the most part she seemed to be taking it in stride; the wife didn't ruffle easily, a fact which he liked to attribute to her experiences in knowing him. But what she hadn't counted on were the frequent calls, text messages, and packages from Delia regarding the wedding plans. The weekly Skype sessions, which had once covered a variety of subjects, were now almost exclusively subsumed by a listing of possible florists and reception halls. For the mother of the bride, this had apparently become an all-consuming project.

Beetlejuice didn't know, or care for that matter, all that much about the details. This was mostly a Lyds thing, really; he figured he'd just show up when directed, stand where he was told, say whatever it was they expected him to say. As far as he was concerned, the whole thing was completely unnecessary anyway, since the Neitherworld considered them already married by contract. But he could sort of understand that there had to be something for the Outerworld too, and while his Lyds might not be like a lot of other young women in many ways, she was entitled to a wedding if she wanted one. Besides, he always loved a party, so he didn't mind the proceedings.

Lydia wearing herself ragged, however - that he _did_ mind.

* * *

When she'd gone almost a full day without summoning him once, he started getting uneasy, and went to take a peek through the mirror. She was passed out in the middle of her bedroom floor, still fully dressed, surrounded by photographs and bits of cloth in horrible colors and what looked to be pages torn from magazines.

"Lyds!"

He pushed his way through the glass as much as he could. It was an odd loophole, left from his earlier connection to the Deetz house. He could go anywhere in the Outerworld without being actively summoned, but only as long as he had a reason for doing so that was in some way associated with Lydia or her parents; this was what allowed him to pester Charles to his heart's content. But he could only pass through the mirror, and thus enter her personal space, if she said his name three times. Even the Fairy Godfather's contract hadn't been able to nullify that particular aspect. "Babes, c'mon, wake up. Babes!"

She stirred faintly. "Bljs..."

"Not quite, Lyds. Come on, I can't reach you from here!"

Slowly she lifted one pale hand to rub her weary eyes. "B...Beetlejuice?"

"That's it. Two more times, come on."

"Beetlejuice. Beetle...juice."

"Whew." He almost dove into the room and down to the floor. "Hey… hey... Wifey-Babes, what's going on?"

"I... I guess I fell asleep," she mumbled, letting him shift her to a sitting position. "Too much on my mind. Sorry."

"Psh, what are you sorry for? Being so tired you can't think straight? Actually, yeah, be sorry for that. You're killing me. Again."

She laughed weakly. "What time is it?"

"Time for you to go to bed, that's what time it is."

She looked at the clock, her eyes finally starting to focus. "Oh, no, I slept through my evening class!"

"Never mind it," he grumbled. "Up you go." He hefted her up from the floor and put her on the bed. "There's nothing that can't wait until after you've slept."

She dropped listlessly onto her pillow, and the fact that she was clearly too tired to argue was even more troubling. Well, he was just going to have to stay and make sure she slept through the night.

* * *

When the Dracula alarm went off in the morning, Beetlejuice opened his eyes to find himself clutched very firmly in Lydia's arms. This was less exciting than it might have been, he had to admit, since he'd once again adopted the form of Beetle-bear. She released her grip on him long enough to reach over and disengage the clock. "Morning," she muttered, her eyes still closed.

"Yeah, that's the rumor."

"You stayed here all night?"

"Not like I haven't done that before. Somebody's gotta make sure you sleep."

She sighed, closing her eyes tight against the morning and adjusting her grip slightly. "She's driving me crazy, Beej. Worse than usual, I mean. Mom is going completely overboard with ideas for the wedding, and none of them are remotely what I want."

"All right, then we'll run away to Transylvania and get married by a Dracula impersonator," he suggested.

"...you are my idiot and I love you," she mumbled. "You _understand_ me."

"The Department of Redundancy Department called; you said the same thing twice." He smirked, privately very pleased.

"Fine, I take it back."

"Nope, not allowed. So lemme guess, Delia wants to do all kinds of wedding things while you're on spring break."

She groaned, pressing her face into the tuft of hair on his plush head. "Yeah. And I've been so busy that I didn't even remember when spring break _was_ , much less come up with something else to do. I can't even take the time to go to the Neitherworld - I've got to figure out my final project for photography class."

"Kinda thought as much. We'll just have to come up with a two-fer, then, get you away from your crazy mother and go someplace where you can wrap up the project," he mused.

"Since when do you make this much sense?"

"Hey, I'm _your_ idiot, but I'm not a _complete_ idiot. What do you wanna do for this project anyway?"

"Well, I was doing some reading on tombstone art, and I thought that might be neat - you know how I always liked taking pictures in the cemetery back home."

"Creeping through the graveyard. You know I love it. Lemme ask you this: if you could go anywhere to take these pictures, where would you go?"

She toyed with his ears, thinking. "Hmm... actually... you know what would be really fun? Seeing all the cemeteries in New Orleans - the old French mausoleums and things. They're supposed to be fascinating. The whole city is supposed to be fascinating, as far as that goes, and spooky in places too." She was starting to smile now. "I think that might just be it."

"See? Piece of cake. We head down south, we eat a little gumbo, you take a few pictures, we laugh ourselves silly at the ghosts of the bayou, and you come back feeling like your old self again."

"It's a great plan. Thanks for helping me figure it out."

"Now, next question... what do you have to do today? And how do I convince you to not do it when we're this comfortable? And would you really rather be cuddling with Beetle-bear when you could -"

"Beetlejuice!"

"Hey, I'm just trying to point out the options!"

She sat up, looking cross - though he suspected she might be trying to look more cross than she actually was. "How about if I throw you across the room? That's an option."

"If that's what you're into..."

"BJ!"

With a faint pop, he immediately transformed from the bear into his human counterpart. He lay on his side, head propped up on one elbow, and grinned at her. "You called?"

She huffed and folded her arms, determinedly not looking at him. "You keep this up and I'll cover the mirror with a sheet again. Longer this time."

"Aw, come on, Babes, I'm just teasing you. It's kind of in my job description, know what I mean?"

"I suppose."


	7. ...We're Painting the Town

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lyds and BJ arrive in New Orleans and, well, basically act like tourists (and, to a lesser extent, newlyweds).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bookworm Gal has been a treasure trove of information about New Orleans (and just an amazing research assistant in general). Between the two of us, we found quite a few things that just sounded like they'd be fun for these two. The plot's about to start hitting, so I wanted to make sure our heroes had a couple days of enjoyment first.
> 
> They will not be going to the plantation mentioned here, but it was literally the first thing I found upon opening a New Orleans travelogue, and I cracked up laughing because - well, it's my name. So I had to include it.
> 
> The information provided about the Cafe du Monde is accurate, although I admit I'm not quite clear on the seating situation inside, nor is the waitress based on a real person. Also, there should be an accent mark above the word Cafe, but I have no idea how to make one.

"If you see only one plantation during your visit to New Orleans, see Laura," Lydia read from her travel guidebook. "Hm. Well, maybe if I get my project done. Hey, BJ... BJ, wake up."

"Hm?" He had been dozing for at least half an hour, his pale hair spilling over her shoulder. Straightening, he blinked at her. "Are we there?"

"Almost." It had been a longer bus ride than she'd anticipated. "About fifteen more minutes, the driver said. Are you excited?"

"I guess, but I still don't see why we couldn't have just driven Doomie."

"Honestly, I thought this would just be more comfortable. Besides, what if he saw a dog? How would we explain a werecar to the police? Even the cops in the Neitherworld don't quite know what to make of him."

"Okay, why not Pinky then?"

"She's never been to the Outerworld," Lydia reminded him. "I don't think her first visit should involve a road trip to a place that's completely unfamiliar to both of us as well as her."

"Fair enough, Babes. So how'd you get Chuckie to spring for this, anyway?"

"Half early graduation gift, half engagement present." The bus rolled to a halt, and she peered out the window with great interest. "So this is the Crescent City. It has a lot of names - it's even called the 'most unique' city in the United States."

"Sounds like my kinda place. Where are we headed first?"

"Daddy said he made a reservation for me at one of the smaller hotels close to Audubon Park," she said, looking at papers she'd drawn from her bag. "We should go there first and get settled. New Orleans is a popular destination for spring break, so he could only get the suite for five nights."

* * *

Once they got to their rooms, unloaded their things, and sat down to a late lunch, it was close to five in the afternoon when they left the hotel and started walking through the crowded city streets. "Wow," Lydia remarked as they neared the famous French Quarter. "I know they say there's always music playing in New Orleans, but I didn't realize they meant it literally. Look at all these musicians!"

"I dig this city, Babes!" BJ was craning his neck in all directions. He caught her hands and spun her about in an inelegant waltz; startled, she laughed. "More towns should have musicians wandering all over the place!"

"It's going to be a noisy few days," she noted with a smile.

They stopped in at Marie Laveau's House of Voodoo, on Bourbon Street, just for a brief look. "The guide calls this 'tourist Voodoo,' but says it's worth the visit."

"Who is this Marie dame?"

"They called her the Queen of Voodoo. Her grave is one of the ones I'm hoping to photograph while we're here."

He nodded. "So what's your plan?"

"Tonight I thought we could just look around a little - soak up the city," she explained. "Tomorrow, we'll visit Audubon Park, since we're staying so close to it and I promised Dad some nice relaxing pictures. Then on Wednesday, we'll see about the cemetery tours and things like that."

"We have to go on tours?"

"Unfortunately, it's required for at least one of the cemeteries - and that's if we're lucky enough that there's one running around now." They crossed the street, and she continued, "There are three graveyards called St. Louis, and the first one, the oldest one, has been closed to the public because of vandalism issues. But if you sign up with a paying tour, you can still go in. So we'll have to see."

"Okay. But for now... shall we dance?" He nodded toward where a small crowd of people were doing exactly that.

"Need you ask?"

* * *

BJ was still snoring when Lydia emerged, fully dressed, from the bathroom the next morning. "Come on, sleeping beauty, we need to get some breakfast," she teased.

Gradually he blinked awake, and lifted an eyebrow as he looked at her. "Hmm... I have some thoughts on what might be good for breakfast."

"Good morning to you too," she said dryly, moving in front of the mirror and turning sideways. Her new black sundress had a red ribbon sash, and she was trying to get just the right loop in the back where she tied it. "I really want to get to the zoo before it gets very crowded. Besides, don't you want to see the Insectarium?"

" _Insectarium_!?"

"That's right. The Audubon Zoo includes the Audubon Butterfly Garden and Insectarium. I thought that might interest you."

"You're taking me to a _smorgasbord_ for breakfast?" He all but jumped out of bed, grabbing for his shirt.

Lydia stifled a laugh, shaking her head. "Sorry, Beej, but you can't eat the exhibits."

"Whaaat?" He froze, then crossed the room and dropped to his knees before her, seizing the hem of her dress. "You can't be serious! You're going to take me to a place like that and not let me sample the cuisine?" He uttered a dramatic sob, pressing his face into the fabric. "I never knew you could be so cruel!" He paused, then lifted his head and added in his normal tone, "It's an intriguing side to you, Babes."

She put her hands on her hips, tapping one foot impatiently and trying very hard not to look as amused as she felt. "Are you done?"

"Maybe."

"We don't have to go to the Insectarium, if you really think it'll be torture."

"You say that like torture is a bad thing." Nevertheless, he looked up at her with a sulky expression. "We can go if you want, Lyds. But you'll have to make it up to me."

"How does a box of chocolate covered beetles sound?"

"You promise?"

"Cross my heart."

"It's a deal."

* * *

The weather was fine, if a little more sultry than Lydia had anticipated; adolescence in New England had hardly prepared her for the southern humidity, but she managed. Her wide-brimmed black hat provided decent shade for her face. BJ, on the other hand, was pink all over his nose before the afternoon was out. "I should have made you put on sunblock," she noted apologetically.

"No sweat, Babes. There are advantages to being a shapeshifter, you know. Going back to my usual form will fix this."

"You'd think I'd be used to that by now."

They remained at the park all day, so she could take plenty of nature pictures to send home for her father's nerves. He wouldn't want to see her cemetery excursions, but at least the herons and ducks would be soothing to his sensibilities. As the sun began to dip low in the sky, she noted, "It's getting late - we should go get something to eat. Are you hungry?"

"Only a little." She'd been lenient, letting him snack on the wild insects whenever he could avoid being spotted by other tourists, as a reward for his remarkably good behavior in the Insectarium.

"Me too - I think it's the heat, I don't have much of an appetite." She consulted her guidebook. "Ooh, I know, let's go to the Cafe du Monde."

"The who?"

"Cafe du Monde, over in Jackson Square. It's one of the oldest businesses in New Orleans, it's been in continuous operation since the Civil War," she explained. "They mostly serve coffee and tea, but they also have beignets."

"Ben-yay?" BJ repeated. "Isn't that the stuff you had me rub on your shoulders when you were sore from your gym class?"

She laughed. "No, that was Ben-Gay. Beignets are kind of like doughnuts, but they're square instead of round. You like sweet things, don't you?"

"Only when they're food. Or you."

They made their way to Jackson Square, where the Cafe du Monde remained open all day, every day of the year, except for Christmas or during a hurricane. Once inside, Lydia wandered around in admiration for several minutes before they sat down, and were almost immediately attended by a motherly-looking server; she spent a little time fussing over BJ's sunburn, which he seemed to find amusing (if slightly perplexing). "Now, what can I get for y'all?"

"We'd like to try the beignets, please," said Lydia. "I read that you have to have beignets at Cafe du Monde when you visit New Orleans."

"Absolutely, sugar! Two plates coming up!"

Several minutes later, during which Lydia had carefully reviewed the images on her camera, the waitress returned with a pair of plates. Arranged on each were three square desserts, coated in powdered sugar. "Now, is it y'all's first visit to the Crescent City?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Well, we've got a tradition round these parts for first-timers!" The waitress smiled. "Y'all've gotta make a wish, and then blow the sugar off your first beignet before you eat."

"Oh, that's fun," Lydia mused. "Um...you can go first, BJ."

He raised an eyebrow at her, but then a smirk curled his lips. "But Lyds," he said, and she recognized his tone; he was playing the 'doting husband' role. "I already have _you_ \- what's left to wish for?"

Lydia managed not to roll her eyes. Their waitress, on the other hand, gave a little squeal. "Now, if that ain't the _sweetest_ thing I've heard all day!" She pinched his cheek and beamed at Lydia. "You keep a grip on this one, honey! Don't let him get away!"

She smiled, shaking her head. "As if I had a choice," she muttered as the waitress walked away.

"Hey," he protested mildly. She just smirked and picked up her first beignet, lightly blowing the powdered sugar at him.


	8. Down in New Orleans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> BJ and Lydia discuss the future, photograph the past, and run into potential trouble in the present.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's a matter of debate whether or not I lost control of the story some time ago, but I have without question lost control of BJ. Bits of the film personality keep sneaking in, which is the only explanation I can offer for a comment he makes in this chapter. He just really enjoys teasing the wife, I guess.
> 
> Once again, Bookworm Gal was of tremendous assistance in helping with research. You should go read her stuff too.

Following the beignets, they'd gotten caught up in more of the New Orleans nighttime experience, roaming through the French Quarter. It was close to midnight when they'd finally danced back to the hotel, slightly weighted down by packages of souvenirs and postcards.

BJ found the city's energy infectious. Dead guys rarely got to feel so alive, and the whole place seemed to speak to him like a subtle electric hum in his blood. He didn't mention it, however, until the following day. Noon was creeping rather closer than they'd intended, but it had been a late night and thus a late, lazy morning. "Maybe we should move here after you graduate," he mused.

Lydia opened one eye and looked at him in some surprise. "You're enjoying yourself that much?"

"Well, yeah." He thought about it a little. "This place is closer to being like the Neitherworld than anywhere else in the Outerworld I've ever seen."

"Hmm. All the color and music and unusual stuff - I kind of see what you mean," she reflected. "It's not a bad idea. I could look around for some job opportunities while we're in town - but that does bring up a different question."

"Like what?"

"What kind of job are _you_ going to get?"

" _Job?!_ "

"Well, think about it. How are we going to give anyone the impression that we're a normal couple if you're not working?"

" ** _Normal?!_** "

"Oh, BJ." She giggled. "You should see your face."

He grumbled at her. "You trying to kill me again, Babes?" Calming a bit, he added, "Besides... I don't really know how to do anything. Can't I just follow you around?"

"Not much profit in that. And you know how to do plenty of things," she reminded him. "I've seen you repair a car, build a mansion, even cook. There are a number of possibilities." She thought about it, idly twisting a corner of her pillowcase between her fingers. After a few moments, she brightened. "Oh, it's so obvious!"

"It is?"

"What do you love doing more than anything?"

" _Well_..."

"Stop that!" Her pale cheeks burned.

"You weren't complaining last night," he muttered, right before she smacked him in the face with her pillow.

"I'm talking about eating bugs, BJ. You'd be a perfect exterminator."

"Ooh, I see where you're going now." He raised his eyebrows, genuinely surprised that neither of them had thought of it sooner. "I'd get lunch and get paid for it!" He couldn't suppress a cackle. "You're a genius, Babes."

"I have my moments," she replied modestly. "Now let's get moving so we can see about those cemetery tours, please."

* * *

As luck would have it, April was one of the times of the year when St. Louis #1 could be visited by a tour. BJ was really only moderately intrigued by the sights, though he had to admit the variously elaborate tombs were interesting. Truthfully, he was much more entertained watching Lydia. Her eye for and love of the unusual lent itself well to the project, and the tour guide seemed alternately amused and annoyed by her efforts to line up perfect shots.

She got the picture she wanted of the Voodoo Queen's grave, and he chuckled at the triumphant look on her face as she reviewed the footage inside the camera. "That's going to be the centerpiece of the project, I think. Unless I spot something that works even better, anyway."

"You're the expert."

It was while they were in St. Louis #3, while Lydia was arranging a flower on the grave of a photographer named E. J. Bellocq and preparing to take a picture of it, that BJ started to notice something wasn't quite right. It was an indistinct feeling at first, a prickling at the back of his mind, which steadily grew more concrete. "Lyds," he murmured, "I got a funny kind of feeling like we're being watched."

"By whom?"

"Not sure. Stay close."

It was somewhat out of character for him to be unsettled by something so uncertain, and she knew it. Her own expression wary, she slipped her hand into the crook of his elbow as they walked. He hated dampening her enthusiasm for her project, but until he had some idea of what they might be up against, he wasn't taking chances. There had been too many close calls over the years.

They followed the tour into the fourth and final cemetery, Lafayette #1. This one was newer than the other three, laid out almost like a miniature city within the city. BJ wasn't even pretending to listen to the tour guide anymore; his eyes were darting back and forth between the raised graves, trying to pinpoint just who was watching.

"And I was enjoying having no bad dreams for a few days," he muttered unthinkingly.

Lydia looked at him, and he could see the worry in her dark eyes. He hadn't meant to say that out loud. "You're still having nightmares?"

He shook his head. "Not often. Just now and then."

"It's been four years, though."

"Didn't say they were all the same bad dream, did I? Don't fuss, Lyds, it's fine."

They were, though. Whether in human form or poltergeist, BJ didn't often dream; but when he did it was always a memorable experience. Sometimes the dreams were wildly comical, like when he'd had the oddly sugary fantasy about the Wizard of Ooze. The funny dreams varied extensively; the nightmares never did. The frequency with which he had those had lessened over time, but even after four years it was always the same dream. He was in the Fairy Godfather's castle, powerless and disheveled, tearing through various familiar faces who were all forming obstacles preventing him from reaching her in time.

At the anniversary party, he'd said he didn't want to reveal why he liked spending time as a human, and he knew what Lydia had thought he'd been implying. She hadn't been exactly wrong, but she hadn't been entirely right either. Simply put, he could sleep peacefully only if he was absolutely certain that she was okay. He knew how close Mr. Big had been to killing her that day, knew that it hadn't been much more than luck which had been on his side. And he knew just how little would have been left standing in the Neitherworld if he _hadn't_ gotten there before the worst had happened. Having her within sight - within reach if possible - was the easiest way to keep the nightmares at bay.

The four years since they signed the contract had been quiet, for the most part. Until now.

"Beej."

He gave himself a little shake, rousing himself from the brooding. "Hm?"

"The tour's over. Maybe we should get out of here; if someone's really watching us, that's a little too creepy even for my tastes."

He chuckled, more for her sake than out of any genuine humor. "Babes, you're partly a ghoul and you're married to a dead guy. Not a whole lot something in a cemetery can do to either of us."

"That's exactly it, though. If you're this uncomfortable in spite of that, then something's really wrong."

"Nah. Maybe I was imagining it." They followed the group out through the gates, and the majority of their fellow tourists dispersed. "But if it'll make you feel better, we can go back to the hotel. You want I should get us a cab? Or maybe one of those horse-drawn carriages we keep seeing?"

"Sure. I'll just get another shot or two here at the gate."

The tour guide was still milling around (he seemed like a decent sort), as were two or three of the other people from the group. It was broad daylight; he'd be all of maybe ten feet away. Lydia would be fine. Persuaded, he moved to the curb and watched diligently for the desired conveyance.

 _Ugh, maybe moving here isn't such a great idea after all. There's spooky and then there's just plain disturbing. But still - it's a pretty fantastic city. Maybe I really am imagining things._ He rubbed the back of his neck, contemplating the matter. _It's not like anyone even knows who we are, or what we are. Why would anyone be watching us? Maybe it was just some schmuck thinking Lyds is cute. Or maybe some ghost was annoyed that she was taking pictures of their grave - or that she **didn't** take pictures of their grave - and got their shroud twisted for a few minutes. Geez, I've turned into a sap **and** a worrywart._

"BJ!"

He spun around, and for a split second it was like the wind had been knocked out of him. Lydia had her back pressed to the cemetery gate, her eyes round with alarm. Some wormy dude had her by the hand and seemed to be trying to pull her down the sidewalk, but wasn't quite able to dislodge her from her position. His expression was earnest, almost concerned, although that quickly melted into something that looked a lot more like fear as BJ approached them. He kept his own face calm, though his voice was like iron.

"Bub, you got about five seconds to get your hand off my wife or we're gonna have a problem."


	9. Can't Conjure a Thing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The plot arrives and interrupts their enjoyment of the city. Just who was that guy who had the bad idea to touch Lydia, anyway?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Meet Hugo. He's...well, he tries real hard. This chapter ended up kind of running away on me.

Hugo had come to New Orleans some years ago - he'd sort of lost count how many precisely - and never left.

He had fallen in love with the Crescent City the way some men fall in love with a woman. She surrounded him with her own private magic, captivating his imagination and claiming his devotion almost without his realizing it. He walked her streets with both a native's confidence and a tourist's sense of wonder.

She was, to put it one way, a spirited city. He enjoyed that particular turn of phrase, because of how many different ways it could be accurately interpreted. The city herself had a spirit all her own, a lifeblood that pulsed beneath the humidity. Spirits flowed in the taverns with all the revelry of ancient mead halls. But of course, New Orleans was also an object of interest to many kinds of spirits, both evil and benign, and it was to these that Hugo directed his attention.

The Veil, some say, is thin in New Orleans. Whether or not it was true was a matter of debate, even in his scholar's mind. But it was not contested by many that magic, such as it could claim to exist, flourished within the city limits. Teachers and subjects alike were in generous supply, and he had learned... he had learned. The names, the threats, the countereffects. Every day he sought new knowledge with which to arm himself in the defense of his city.

* * *

A few times each week, he went to one of the cemeteries. Certainly there were enough of them to keep him occupied. Most were quiet, lacking in spectral activity; he was more likely to encounter vandals, or devotees of Marie Laveau. Still, he felt it was wise to investigate the potential entrances by which trouble might seep into the city from the other side, and generally, he'd been satisfied that all was well on that front.

But on a sunny April afternoon, as he walked through St. Louis #3, he sensed the presence of something...off.

Sensing such things had been one of the hardest things for him to learn. It just didn't come naturally to him, not really, and it had required a lot of effort on his part to develop any talent for it at all. In fact, given that he usually sensed nothing, he sometimes wondered if he'd really learned anything; but for the first time, he truly understood what it meant to have such an impulse. He slipped quietly between the graves, trying to identify the source.

There was a tour group, and he felt compelled to turn his search in their direction. As collections of persons go, they didn't strike him as anything particularly out of the ordinary, at least at first. A few middle-aged couples, a bored-looking teenager, and a few young men and women who looked like they might be college students, plus the tour guide. He didn't want to get too close, lest he be questioned, but he loitered near the tail end of the group.

And then two of them moved, and he caught sight of her.

She was a raven-haired beauty, pale as frost, and she was wholly engrossed in taking a photograph of the Bellocq tomb. There was an intelligence and a thoughtfulness in her expression; but hovering around her he could see a darkness. Perhaps 'see' wasn't the right word. It was seeing without seeing, knowing without really understanding how he knew. Something indistinct and supernatural fluttered at the edges of her aura, something that didn't belong on a girl so young and so alive. It wasn't death, exactly, but it was definitely something death _like_ , and Hugo knew she was in need of his help.

How to explain it to her, though? He couldn't walk up and pull her out of the tour group - it would look too much like kidnapping and he desperately tried on all occasions not to freak out the locals. He'd have to find a way to catch her alone. From what he could overhear of the tour guide's remarks, they were finishing the tour at Lafayette #1, which was pretty typical for these tours. He'd go on ahead and wait for the tour to end, then get her alone and speak with her quietly.

Even with his extensive knowledge of shortcuts and public transportation, however, Hugo wasn't able to beat the tour group to the cemetery, which had been his intent. He'd wanted to keep the young lady in sight as much as possible, but without revealing his position, it was difficult to follow them. So he'd planned to go on ahead and wait for the group to arrive; it hadn't quite worked out that way, though, and they were already within the Lafayette by the time he got there. He loitered near the entrance, keeping to the shadows of some of the taller vaults, and waited.

Finally the group exited, and he saw his chance. While everyone else separated, she doubled back to take a few more pictures from the vantage point of the arched gateway. Not wanting to delay another second, he swept into action, emerging from the otherworldly quiet of the cemetery and approaching her.

"Excuse me, miss? I don't wish to alarm you but I must speak with you!"

She remained impressively calm, and he thought it spoke well for her ability to accept what he would tell her. "Can I help you?"

"No - but I think I can help you."

She backed up so her frame was pressed against the bars of the gate, and wariness sprang into her eyes. One hand cradled her camera, and impulsively, he seized the other. "Please, I mean you no harm. But you must come with me."

Nope, she was definitely unnerved now. _Note to self, you need to work on your approach_. She opened her mouth, and he fully expected her to scream; instead, however, all she did was shout a name. "BJ!"

Too late did it dawn on Hugo that this pretty girl with the shadowed aura was unlikely to be wandering around by herself. Sure enough, he turned just in time to see a young man bearing down on him. His expression was calm to the point of being grim, but his eyes were sapphires which blazed a warning. "Bub," he said, and a braver man than Hugo might have trembled at the way he bit off the end of every syllable, "you got about five seconds to get your hand off my wife or we're gonna have a problem."

Immediately he dropped the young lady's hand like it was a hot potato, and backed up a pace or two. She quickly scooted away from the gate and to the side of the young man - her husband, apparently - whose arm went directly around her shoulders. "Are you all right?"

"I'm fine. He didn't hurt me or anything," she murmured.

They both looked at him, likely waiting for an explanation; her expression was largely puzzled, while his was more menacing. Hugo studied them in turn, realization bubbling slowly in his mind. "Why... it's _both_ of you," he said, dazed. "You both have the same thing."

"What are you talking about?"

"Forgive me, I'm quite new at this," he said apologetically. "At first I only saw the shadow on the young lady, but now I see it hovers over you both. There's a darkness in each of your auras that I can't quite identify, but I'm a student of such things and it seems to me that you could very well be in danger."

The young couple exchanged slightly incredulous glances. "Yeah, uh... I somehow doubt that," said the husband. "Believe me, I doubt there's anything a shadow could do to us that's worse than what we've already seen."

"You've had dealings with the other side?" Hugo asked, surprised.

The wife actually chuckled. "You have no idea."

"I see." He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Perhaps I have it backwards, then - perhaps it's you who can help me. Could I persuade the pair of you to accompany me to my rooms? Then I can explain better."

They exchanged another look; this one was less incredulous and more... resigned, almost. "I suppose we were about due to stumble across some kind of a plot," the husband muttered. "Let's see where this goes."

* * *

Their names, he learned, were BJ and Lydia. BJ was presumably short for something, but he didn't quite dare ask what. He offered them tea, which they declined, and he proceeded to explain about his studies.

"I'm sure it doesn't surprise you to learn that all manner of spirits are drawn to the jewel of the bayou," he said, "like moths to a candle flame." He thought he detected something like suppressed smiles in the way they once again looked at each other. "I've dedicated my life to studying these, in hopes of protecting the city and her people from the undesirable elements. Not all spirits are bad, of course; many are perfectly harmless, even helpful at times."

"So how can we help?" Lydia inquired.

"Well, there's one spirit in particular - I should say, one kind - on which I've been focused lately," he explained. "They're called Shadow People, or Shadow Men, which is an overly simplified term but it serves the purpose."

"Wasn't that in a movie?" BJ asked.

"That Shadow Man was an actual person. These are specters," Hugo clarified. "The major problem with studying Shadow People is that most people don't believe they exist."

"Humans often do ignore the strange and unusual." Lydia's lips twitched, and her husband gave her a sideways glance that managed to perfectly balance amusement and adoration.

"True. In this case, it's a little different," Hugo continued. "Many of those who report seeing Shadow People are methamphetamine users or suffering from sleep deprivation, so it's easy to dismiss their claims. But there are many other reported sightings, and I'm convinced they exist. In fact, I'm almost positive that I've found one attempting to enter New Orleans!"

He wasn't sure what reaction he'd been hoping they would give, but it wasn't the one he got. They just sort of blinked at him. "And that's what you think you saw on us?" BJ guessed.

"Possibly. The signature is very similar. So I thought perhaps the three of us might perform a small ritual together, of my own design, and strengthen whatever barrier is keeping the Shadow Person out of the city."

Their incredulity was to be expected, he supposed. "You think that would work?"

"I don't think it can hurt, at the very least. We'd just have to sit here at my table, as we're doing now, and join hands and concentrate while I recite a banishing spell. Will you help me? I've never met anyone who so casually bore hallmarks of the spirit world the way you do - I can't help thinking you crossed my path for a reason."

"What do you think, BJ?" Lydia asked.

He shrugged. "You're the brains of this operation, Babes. Gotta admit, this is a new one on me."

"All right, Hugo, we'll give it a try," she said. "I guess if it might help you protect your city, it's worth a shot."

"Oh, thank you so much!" He almost squealed with enthusiasm. "Just sit tight while I set up a few things!" He had to close the drapes, light the appropriate number and color of candles, find the book where he'd composed the incantation, and he also decided to burn some sage as a precaution. "Okay, scootch in here and give me your hands, and hold hands yourselves... right, like that. Ahem." He cleared his throat and began, with only some trepidation, to read the words.

Three lines in, the room began to dim. He could feel Lydia's hand trembling in his own; he tried not to look at her fearful eyes.

At the seventh line, a strange wind whipped around their legs, and all the candles except one extinguished themselves. It was working, it had to be! All his years of research were finally paying off! He squinted at the paper, trying desperately to keep going in the faint glow of the lone remaining candle.

And then, after the twelfth and final line of the incantation, everything went black. That... that wasn't supposed to happen. Involuntarily, he released their hands, trying to fumble through the darkness for a new light source.

A hideous howl rose up from the depths of... _somewhere_ , followed by a sickening crack like a whip and a sort of hiccup of a sound. He couldn't place that last one, but it was as though something abruptly popped into - or out of - existence. Hugo stumbled to the wall and yanked open a curtain, flooding the room with sunlight.

Then there was a new sound. In all his life, Hugo had never heard anything like it, and hoped he never would again. It was a cry of pure agony, pure anguish, pure unbridled terror. He looked back at the table and his heart sank as he realized just who had made that sound, and why.

Lydia's chair was empty.


	10. Messing With the Shadow Man

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As if BJ doesn't have enough problems, Lydia's disappearance prompts the arrival of the villain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My beta readers had a pretty uniform "OH NO" response to that last chapter's ending. I love those ladies to death... no pun intended. Anyway, in case you were wondering, things are about to go from bad to worse for poor BJ.

For a moment, it seemed like all BJ could do was scream.

Nothing about the last several minutes had seemed altogether right to him. But the instant he felt Lydia's hand leave his, he knew something was wrong. And when the curtain was flung open and he saw the empty chair, well, his reaction was pure instinct. A sound he didn't even know he could make burst from his mouth, a wretched note of despair and pleading.

This was worse than his nightmares. When he had the nightmares, even if he couldn't actually get to her, at least he knew where Lydia _was_.

After the scream died, he sucked in a breath, trying to make sense of it all. It was impossible; he gave up almost as soon as he started. He turned slowly in his seat, locking eyes with Hugo. The well-meaning twit was staring, slack-jawed with horror, at the place where Lydia had been sitting.

"What... have... you... done?" he managed, slowly.

"I - I don't know! This wasn't supposed to happen!"

"It wasn't supposed to happen," BJ repeated, getting to his feet. "We let you perform a stupid ritual... we listened to you when we probably should have just left... now _my wife_ has vanished into thin air... and all you can say is that _it wasn't supposed to happen_?!" With every increasingly frantic word, he advanced on Hugo, who backed up until he hit the wall. Stray books and candles tumbled to the floor. Even the bright Louisiana sunshine pouring through the window had taken on a strangely dull tinge.

"Please don't kill me," the bewildered scholar said with a gulp.

"Kill you?" BJ repeated, and he felt his mouth stretch into a menacing smile. "Why in the world would I kill you? No, no. I'm going to wait, ever so patiently, while you figure out a way to get Lydia back. Because if you _don't_ , I will personally see to it that _every moment of the rest of your life is a completely hellish nightmare **until you give up and die in self-defense**_!"

"If - if it's any consolation," Hugo hedged, "the - the darkness - in your aura - it's gone."

BJ paused. "What?"

"The darkness. I don't sense it on the edge of you anymore. The ritual must have driven it off."

He thought about that for a moment, and then a new sort of panic consumed him. He lifted a hand, pale and shaking, and snapped his fingers. Nothing happened. "No. Oh, no, no, no." He tried again.

"Is something wrong?"

"A lot of somethings are wrong, you two-bit con artist! You don't know the first thing about being haunted, and I'm trying to show you - but I can't!"

"No," agreed a new voice, "you certainly cannot."

* * *

 

BJ was close to wringing Hugo's scrawny little neck, but he refrained in light of the new arrival.

"Suppose you be a gentlemanly sort," said the voice, which seemed to come from nowhere in particular, "and pull those drapes? Too much light isn't good for the eyes, and I work much better in the dark."

"Who are you?" BJ demanded. " _Where_ are you?"

"I'm right under your nose." The voice was silky and persuasive. He could feel something chilled coiling around his arm, and he shook it violently. Hugo closed the drapes partway, and there came a luxurious sort of sigh. "Ah, much better."

"Show yourself!"

"Happy to oblige." It was as though a plume of smoke was coalescing into something more distinct, and hovered over the table. "My, my. This is a red letter day, gentlemen. I thought it was going to take our esteemed scholar here a lot longer to figure out how to help me get through - I've been trying to get your attention for ages now."

"You...you were?" Hugo blinked.

"Of course. Do you know how frustrating it is to be seen chiefly by people whose faculties have been addled? But when you started sniffing around, thinking my kind might be something real, I knew we were onto something. It was only a matter of time before you let me into the city, although you were quicker than I expected. But now I see you had help."

"You're the Shadow Man?" Hugo looked incredulous. "You're real?"

"Shut up," BJ snapped. "Obviously he's real, he's right here."

"I'm a Shadow Man, yes. My kind really needs a better name, but it will do for now. You may call me Erebos," the new arrival continued. "I expected the little man with the books... but I wasn't anticipating meeting the one and only Beetlejuice in the flesh. Literally, no less."

"You've heard of me?" BJ puffed up just slightly - then he remembered.

"Heard of you? Why, there's hardly a spirit or shade the world over who doesn't know the name of the Ghost With the Most!"

BJ glanced at Hugo, who was goggling at him. "Wait, you mean - you're a ghost?!"

"Under ordinary circumstances, yeah. It's a long story, and frankly, I don't have the energy or the patience for telling it just now."

"And Lydia - is she -?"

"Lyds is... something else. That's really the best way I can describe her. More to the point -" He glared at Erebos. "She's gone and you're here, and I'd like to know just what's going on."

"We've had what you might call a changing of the guard," Erebos replied pleasantly. "Thanks to your efforts, I got out...and the little lady, it would seem, has gotten in."

"And what do you want?"

"What any trapped spirit wants, of course. My freedom. But you..." He gave BJ a careful once-over. "You, my brother, have much bigger problems, don't you? Everything's been snatched away from you in short order. You can't even go home, now, because all that celebrated power with which you once wreaked havoc has up and left you, just like the young lady did."

"It's not like that hasn't happened before." BJ tried to shrug, as though it were no big deal.

"Oh, I know. I can see right into your minds, both of you... I know where you've been, and I know what you've seen. You, little man..." He circled Hugo. "Such a well-meaning oaf. Just wanted to protect your precious city from the likes of me, ain't that so? But all the finer points of mysticism elude you no matter how much you learn, no matter hard you try. Now, if you just had a little help... perhaps a friend who has understanding of such things... why, the city you love so much would open to you, like the oyster opens to reveal the pearl."

BJ glanced at Hugo, who had gone a little bit limp, and elbowed him sharply. "Snap out of it, would ya? We've gotta stay focused."

"Right. Sorry." He coughed, straightening.

Erebos turned his attention back to BJ. "And then there's you, my brother..."

"I'm not your brother!" he snapped. "I've got one of those already and believe me, one's enough."

"Six hundred years..." Erebos shook his head, his tone almost admiring. "You poor devil. You've spent more than six hundred years rattling around the spirit world, and in all that time, you only ever found one thing that made you truly happy. Just the one. But oh, my man... she's the sun and you're the moon, and no matter how much the darkness loves the daylight, they can't ever really be together."

"I think you've said just about enough," BJ said, pushing up his sleeves.

Erebos chuckled. "What are you going to do? Hit me? That won't work, and you know it. Without your all-powerful juice, there's nothing you can do. But if you work with me, I can help you. Find your lost powers, find your lost love. Think about it." He turned his hungry gaze toward the window. "I've got a city to see... I'll come back to you gentlemen in the morning. Do us all a favor and think about what I'm offering."

* * *

It took BJ a few minutes to realize that Erebos had made good his escape. He gave himself a shake. "Oh geez, I need this like I need another hole in my head."

"Well, that was... most illuminating," Hugo managed after a moment.

"Never mind that, what do we do about him? He's out there running loose in the streets of the city, and meanwhile Lyds... I don't even want to think about what might have happened to Lyds."

He rubbed a hand over his face, trying to swallow his anxiety. Was she even still alive? Was there anything left of her to find? Their contract with the Fairy Godfather was supposed to ensure that they remained permanently connected, always able to find their way back to one another. How could Hugo's stupid ritual have so completely altered things that even that was no longer a given?

If she was out there somewhere, _anywhere_ , he would find her; he knew that much. If she wasn't, then all bets were off.

"I think we need to bring in some help," Hugo was saying.

"You don't say," he deadpanned. "You mean you're not able to deal with this on your own? Shocking."

The other man flushed. "Look, for what it's worth, I'm really sorry," he said. "I never meant for anything like this to happen. But we may as well work together now."

"Fine. Tell me what you want to do."

"We need to go see one of my teachers - one of the people who taught me about spirits and things. She's very wise and very kind, and I'm sure she'll know what steps we should take. I promise you, uh, BJ, I'm going to do everything I can to help you find your wife."

"Yeah, no offense, Hugo... that's really not as comforting as you probably think it is."


	11. I Have To Do Everything

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hugo introduces BJ to his teacher, Lady Delphine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And now to introduce the third and final original character in this story. Hugo and Erebos seem to have been well received; I hope that continues.

Lady Delphine, as she was known to those who crossed her threshold in search of aid, was at the grocery store when she felt it. The wind was changing, and something foul was blowing across the currents of the Mississippi. She decided she'd better worry about buying milk later; this was rather more urgent.

Out on the sidewalk, she sniffed the air. Something malevolent had entered the city, that much was certain, though she couldn't guess its specific intent as yet. "It's gonna be one of those days, is it?" She sighed.

As she got clear of the more populous parts of the city, she could begin to identify further complexities in the change of the air. Someone innocent - well, relatively speaking - had gotten mixed up in all of this. Arguably worse, she recognized an undercurrent of well-intentioned meddling. "Oh, Hugo," she groaned, "what did you do this time?"

Her white hair whipped about in the rising wind as she hurried home. Unsurprisingly, it pushed against her as she walked, trying to divert her steps. "You know as well as I do that won't work," she muttered. "Why do you bother?" They always did, though. The unfriendly ones knew her at least as well as she knew them, and without fail they took steps - however pathetic - to slow her efforts to thwart them.

As she had more or less expected, she reached her home in time to find Hugo - dear, sweet, ever so slightly clueless Hugo - being held by his throat against her door. She quickly realized, however, that his antagonist was not hers. "You said this lady could help," the stranger growled. "Where is she?"

"I'm right here," she said calmly, approaching the pair. "Do be a good lad and put him down, please. He's more trouble than he's worth sometimes, but I'm fond of him all the same."

With visible reluctance, the stranger lowered Hugo to his feet, and he massaged his throat and gasped for air. "Lady Delphine, I'm so relieved -"

"You're a chucklehead is what you are. What did you do?"

In spite of his obvious distress, the stranger actually almost smiled. "Okay, _you_ I like."

"Well, come in, both of you." She unlocked the door and ushered them inside. "Let me get some candles going before whatever's out there thinks it might try to come in here."

* * *

"...and that's what happened," Hugo concluded lamely.

Delphine closed her eyes and shook her head. "Why in the world did you attempt this ritual of yours without even getting someone to look at it? If not me, someone? I keep telling you, boy, spiritualism is not like training a puppy - and frankly, I wouldn't trust you with a houseplant."

"I'm sorry -"

"Sorry doesn't fix this!" She opened her eyes again, and looked at the young man who had been introduced as BJ. "So what are you exactly?"

"Well, that's a bit of a long story," he replied, almost amiably.

"Give me the summary, then."

"I shuffled off the mortal coil back in the Middle Ages. Skulked around the Neitherworld - or the spirit world, whatever you want to call it - for about six hundred years, driving everybody crazy. Met a human girl. I'm a poltergeist, she became my fixed target. She grew up. There was a big complicated plot involving shoes and television, and we ended up in a contract that basically married us."

"That's a summary all right." Delphine sipped her tea. "And Hugo here spotted you two wandering around the cemetery, and pulled you into his plot."

"Really, I'm surprised we were in New Orleans this long without getting tackled by plot. Whoever's writing the script of my afterlife ought to have their head examined. Look, I don't know this guy from a can of paint, and I don't know this Erebos character who seems to know me. The one thing I do know is that Lydia is missing. Your friend here thought you could help me."

"Certainly I'll help you if I can," she replied. "But in the interest of fairness, I'll be explicit; you have to understand that for me, New Orleans needs to take priority. Getting this Erebos out of the city, and preferably back where he belongs, is by necessity my primary goal. If I can bring Lydia back to this side of the Veil in the process, I will. But I can't promise anything."

"Okay, well, then I should point out to you that I like New Orleans just fine. It's a great town." He glowered. "But all the same, _I would burn it to the ground_ if that's what I had to do to get her back."

"Let's hope it doesn't come to that," she replied calmly. "Besides, you don't have any of your powers just now, so city burning is a little out of your reach."

"Well, yeah."

"I take your meaning, though. Let me see. I'll need a few things. Hugo, you go back to your place and get me that ridiculous incantation that caused all this mess, and any of the candles that are left. You, BJ, I'll need you to bring me a photograph of Lydia, and something belonging to her would also help. It'll give me a sense of who she is, and then I'll see if I can use that to pin down her location."

He nodded. "Right. I'll be back soon."

Once he was gone, Hugo hesitated to follow. "I didn't mean for any of this to happen, Lady Delphine."

"Child, I know that. You have a good heart; you want what's best for this city. I know. But pulling two complete strangers into a ritual without knowing what you were doing? I can't even fathom what you were thinking. Or why they went along with it - although if he's really what he says he is, maybe it didn't seem all that strange to them." She shook her head again. "If he _is_ a poltergeist, he's the most benign one I've ever heard tell of. Well, apart from that business about burning New Orleans to the ground, but even that's not normal poltergeist behavior. The human girl must have had quite an effect on him."

"Honestly, just from the short time I saw the two of them together, I would never have guessed that's what he was, even if I'd realized that he wasn't completely human," he remarked. "He just seemed like a normal guy who loves his wife."

"A contract that married a human to a ghost... who comes up with this nonsense?" She massaged the bridge of her nose, then paused. "Oh. Oh, of course."

"Lady?"

"It's nothing, Hugo. Go get those things I requested, please."

* * *

When BJ returned an hour later, Hugo was still not back. Delphine was glad of it; she wanted to form her own opinions of this curious individual without any further input from her errant student. "You brought the photograph?"

"She lives and breathes her camera, so it's sometimes kind of tricky to find one with her in it," he explained. "I have some, but I didn't bring any on this trip. But here - I found this one from when we went to her high school prom. That was four years ago, but she doesn't look much different."

Delphine put on a pair of spectacles and scrutinized the small image. It was a charming arrangement; they were side by side, looking at each other with a mixture of affection, apprehension, and cautious hope. Clearly the photograph predated their contract, but it wasn't hard to tell that they'd both entered that contract willingly enough. "She's a beautiful girl."

"Yeah." His tone was fond.

Turning her head, she peered at him over the rim of her glasses. "And you love her very much."

He wouldn't meet her eyes, looking instead at the floor. "Yeah," he said again, quieter this time.

"Are you sure you're a poltergeist?"

"I'm the Ghost With the Most," he said, somewhat stubbornly. "Or at least, I was. Now I'm just a has-been, thanks to your pet stooge."

"I meant no offense. I only ask because poltergeists aren't normally capable of that much depth of feeling. Or any, really. Your kind are more often just mindless spirits of chaos."

"Oh, I can be plenty mindless and chaotic," he replied, almost cheerful for a moment. "And the longer I'm away from Lyds, the more mindless and chaotic I get. She holds the leash, know what I mean? Not sure why, she just does; she always did."

"Interesting. What item did you bring for me to use to trace her spirit signature?"

"Here." It was clearly difficult for him to part with the jeweled spider in his hand. "She takes this everywhere - I gave it to her for the first anniversary of the day we met. It's not gonna get damaged by whatever voodoo you do, is it?"

"No, I promise you, nothing like that. Ah, and here's Hugo; now, give me those things, and let me see what needs doing."


	12. Done Killed Me to Death

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lydia's not happy...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One of my beta readers commented on the last chapter that her heart was broken for BJ. Right now, he'd be satisfied just to know where Lydia is - which I'm about to show you. There's good news, and then there's bad news...

The good news, for Lydia, was that she had landed somewhere safe.

She wasn't _comfortable_ , and she certainly wasn't _happy_ , but she wasn't in any particularly immediate danger. When the strange whip-crack sound had been heard in Hugo's room, she'd suddenly lost her grip on BJ's hand, and the next thing she knew, she was sort of bouncing - falling downhill, after a fashion.

When she finally stopped moving, she opened her eyes warily and looked around. This was familiar. The color scheme was strange, slightly cartoonish. "I'm... I'm in the Neitherworld?!" Picking herself up, she tried to make sense of her exact location; if she could make her way to the Roadhouse, at least there she could get her bearings. This was, of course, easier said than done; it didn't take long for her to realize that she really didn't have any idea where she was.

It suddenly struck her that she was alone, and that was alarming on many levels. She looked around wildly, but there was no sign of anyone. "Beetlejuice? Beetlejuice!" No answer, save the wind.

"What do I do now?" she wondered. "I haven't been alone since I was twelve, unless I wanted to be... this is so strange." She groaned. "Come on, Lydia, think! What did Beetlejuice say about the Neitherworld? It loops back on itself. So I'll just pick a direction and start walking, and sooner or later I have to find _something_."

Easier said than done. It was as though Hugo's misaimed ritual had dropped her in the most middle-of-nowhere place in the entire Neitherworld. This was, in fact, literally true - the first thing she encountered in her travel was a signpost. " _Welcome to the Middle of Nowhere_ ," she read. " _Population: You_. Well, thank you, Captain Obvious. But at least it proves this is definitely the Neitherworld. Where else do you find that kind of lame joke?"

She kept walking.

How long she walked, she really didn't know. "I should have worn my Droolex watch," she remarked wryly. "Man, I'm beat."

The words had barely left her mouth when she let out a gasp of surprise. She'd never felt anything like this - and as she looked down at herself, she realized why. She had just turned into a giant beet. "How in the world - oh, no! Uh... I'm Lydia?"

That seemed to do the trick of restoring her to herself, but it raised a whole new set of questions. "Beetlejuice's involuntary shapeshifting... I could never do it before! But why now? Does this mean I have his juice? I mean, more than usual?" She paused. "I'm monologuing. Well, that's usually his thing too. But... wait a minute..."

Distressed now, she pressed two fingers to the opposite wrist and waited. Feeling nothing, she tried her throat. With a growing panic, she put a hand over her heart like she was preparing to recite the Pledge of Allegiance. There was absolutely nothing. Her heart was not beating.

"Oh, no... I'm - I'm _dead_?!"

Rather than continue the journey, Lydia allowed herself to sit down and try to make sense out of her newly discovered predicament. "Let's think about this logically," she told herself. "Hugo's ritual must have contained something that caused me to be sent here with BJ's powers and without my humanity. Unfortunately, it was all in Latin, so I don't actually know what he was saying."

She pondered the matter. "He wanted to banish the darkness, I know that. I'll bet that the ritual mixed up the Shadow Person with the 'darkness' he saw in our auras - the partial death we each carry. And somehow it put all of it into me and sent me to the Neitherworld, where the dead belong. Which means BJ must still be back in New Orleans with all the humanity - and no magic." She gasped again, now realizing how all this must appear to those she left behind. "Oh, no. Beetlejuice won't know what happened to me, or where I am! He's going to freak - well, at least if I've got his power, he can't destroy _too_ much." Recalling his epic beatdown of Scuzzo, however, she reconsidered the notion. "I sure hope he gives Hugo a running start."

More thoughtfully, she raised a hand and studied her fingertips. They were vaguely reddish, not unlike Beetlejuice's, and this both comforted and troubled her. "I even managed to get paler. I didn't think that was possible," she noted wryly. "Well, maybe I can use his juice to get myself out of here. Hmm..." She thought for a moment, then experimentally snapped her fingers.

At first, nothing happened, and she wondered if she had done something wrong. Gradually, however, she became cognizant of a distant dust cloud, rolling steadily in her direction. "The cavalry has arrived - I hope," she muttered, getting to her feet.

Sure enough, she soon heard the familiar chiming of six musical beeps. "Doomie! Here, boy!"

"Meep meep!" The loyal green convertible poured on a burst of speed and screeched to a halt a few feet away from where she stood.

"Oh, am I glad to see you," Lydia cried, rushing to awkwardly embrace his front end. "Everything's gone completely crazy again. Can you get me back to the Roadhouse?"

"R-r-r!" The rumble, she was somewhat amused to note, had what might be described as a reassuring note to it.

"I'll explain everything after we get there," she added, climbng into the driver's seat. "Jacques and Ginger and the Monster Across the Street all need to know what's happened, too, and I don't think I've got the energy to tell the story more than once just now."

* * *

As soon as they reached the Roadhouse, Lydia summoned the neighbors and, with Doomie listening at the open window, sat down in an armchair to relate the tale.

"...and that's how I got here."

Jacques, Ginger, and the Monster Across the Street all gaped at her in bewilderment. "I 'ardly know what to say," Jacques managed, after a few moments of stunned silence.

"So - so Beetlejuice is alive?" Ginger asked.

"I'm guessing so, since I'm definitely not. And I've got all his powers, as far as I can tell anyway."

"Which means you're stuck here and he's stuck there." The Monster Across the Street scratched his head.

"I suppose they're gonna actually build that statue now," Ginger commented.

"Statue?"

"Zere has been a petition to 'ave a statue built in your honor," Jacques explained. "Ever since you signed ze contract four years ago, Be-attle-juice spends so much time in ze Outerworld with vous that he almost never bothers to prank anyone anymore. National pranking statistics are down over fifty percent with him gone."

"You've become sort of a folk hero, Miss Lydia," the Monster added.

"That's weird. Flattering, I guess, but weird." She paused. "The contract - of course! Everything that's happened is in violation of the Fairy Godfather's contract! It's supposed to be impossible to separate us against our will! He can fix this!"

"But do you think the Fairy Godfather would be able to do anything without Beetlejuice here?" Ginger asked dubiously.

"Oh... maybe not." Deflating, Lydia sighed. "This is insane. I've got his magic and I don't have the first idea what to do with it, and I can't do anything to help him or myself because I don't know how it works!" She slumped in her chair and glanced at the opposte wall, where her own likeness gazed serenely back at her.

"Would Prince Vince perhaps know of something?" Jacques ventured. "He was keeping tabs on your situation when the original contract 'ad problems, after all. If nothing else, he may be able to at least confirm for you zat Be-attle-juice is safe."

"That would be a comfort, at least. It's worth a try," she agreed. "Thanks, Jacques."

"Cheer up, sweetie," Ginger added consolingly. "It'll be all right in the end. You and Beetlejuice have never been beaten yet."

"Thanks for that."

* * *

 

Lydia wasn't ungrateful to her friends for their efforts to raise her spirits (no pun intended). She appreciated the kindnesses, regarded them all with more affection than ever. But she felt like the needle had fallen out of her compass, and until that was fixed and she knew which direction to take, nothing would be all right again.

They all went with her to see the prince, who was never sorry to receive a visit from any of them. He was obviously not expecting them this time, however. "I see trouble," he observed in his grave way. "Lydia, you look most unwell. In fact, I would almost suspect you were..." He trailed off, eyes widening, as she nodded soberly. "Dead?!"

"I'm afraid so."

"Dear oh dear. And the fact that Beetlejuice isn't with you bodes particularly ill." He shook his head. "Come, let us all repair to the dining hall. You can tell me everything over lunch."

While they were treated to a generous banquet, Lydia - who had little appetite - related her situation to the prince. "As soon as we finish eating," he promised, "I'll see what I can learn from Tumblr. If nothing else, hopefully I can at least set your mind at ease about Beetlejuice's condition."

"My theory," said Lydia, "is that since I'm here and dead with his magic, he's probably right where I left him." She sighed. "Alive, and powerless, and probably ready to murder Hugo."


	13. Who Would Kiss a Frog?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> BJ versus Erebos. Round one, FIGHT!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was legitimately painful to write.

BJ passed a rough night in the hotel room alone.

Lady Delphine was hard at work, he knew. These things would take time. Exactly what she had to do, he wasn't entirely sure, but something about her made him think he could trust her. (Better her than Hugo, anyway; at least _she_ seemed to know what she was doing.) Eventually she'd advised him, not unkindly, to go back to the hotel and try to get some sleep.

He'd made a pretty noble effort, and sometimes he even managed to pass out for gulps of time. But sooner or later he was yanked out of sleep by the return of nightmares. Somewhere around first light he'd finally given up the chase and resigned himself to a lot of coffee until Lydia returned. He didn't particularly enjoy coffee, which somehow made him feel better about drinking it - why should he enjoy anything just now?

He sat in bed with the cup of melted brown crayons (or so it tasted to him) and watched the window with bleary, bloodshot eyes. The sun was slowly beginning to rise.

"And here we have the world-famous former Ghost With the Most," said an intrusive voice, "on a beautiful New Orleans morning, exhausted and desperate. My poor brother, how pained you look."

"I told you not to call me that."

* * *

The night before, as Delphine had dismissed him, she had given him some parting advice.

"Erebos will return just as he said," she told him. "I'll keep Hugo here; he can't enter my rooms with the protective wards in place. But he'll almost certainly come and find you."

"Then...shouldn't I stay here too?"

"No, for the sake of appearances you need to go back to the hotel. Anyone notices your Lydia is missing, make something up. You can probably expect Erebos somewhere in the vicinity of dawn."

"Great. Can't wait."

She smiled faintly at his sarcasm. "You're stronger than Hugo. I think I can rely on you to do what needs to be done."

"And what is it I need to do?"

"From what I know of his ilk," she explained, "he's going to get inside your head. You won't be able to prevent this with any sort of ease; everything you know, everything you've ever experienced, is going to be his for the cherry picking. And he'll use anything he finds to try to convince you to make a deal with him."

"I don't make deals. Well, not usually."

"Stick to that. Erebos will pick at your sore spots, BJ. He'll find all your weaknesses, all your painful parts that you try to hide from the world, and he'll nudge them so they start throbbing. You have to be ready for that. But he himself has one weakness that you can always use against him."

"Oh yeah? What's that?"

"The truth."

"Not my favorite thing, Lady."

She shook her head. "I'm not speaking of honesty, per se. I'm talking about truth - things which are so solidly factual that he cannot refute them. Find a truth within yourself and hold onto it. Let it anchor you."

"So, like... one plus one equals two?"

"Mm, not exactly." She seemed amused. "More along the lines of personal truths. You'll need to figure it out for yourself; it's different for each of us. Find something you believe with all your strength, and Erebos can never take it from you."

* * *

He'd been pondering it, in between snatches of sleep. He still didn't quite know what she meant, but when it came to such things he never had been the brightest, really. Still, he had to try.

"So have you considered my offer from last night?" Erebos prodded.

"Not really." Even BJ was surprised by his own excessively casual tone. "You didn't exactly make your terms clear."

"You make a good point. Well, my friend - since you don't want me calling you brother - it's very simple. I can use my powers to seek out the little lady and arrange for her to be brought back to you. In return, when you get your extraordinary powers back, you use some of them to set me fully free and let me go my way through the streets of New Orleans. This city's a treasure trove."

"Yeah, I met somebody yesterday who isn't real keen on you running amok in her city," he said idly. "I don't think she'd appreciate my doing anything that would help you."

"Oh, so the little man with the books took you to see his big bad teacher, hm? That explains why I can't find him." Erebos scowled, briefly. "And I'm sure she told you all sorts of stories about what I might do to you."

"Just a little. Nothing impressive."

"Oh, no?" A smoky smirk crossed the shadow's indistinct features. "We'll see about that. Let's have a look here..."

"You stay out of my head!"

"Too late!" He chuckled. "Six hundred solitary years, give or take a few; I see the dates aren't exact. And then along came Lydia - the one for whom you'd waited so long. I admit, I'm impressed. You didn't even know you were looking for your one true love, but you found her all the same. I never knew a poltergeist could _have_ one, much less find them. One wonders if you yourself really understand what you are, or if there's a word for it at all." He paused, and chuckled. "Well, now, this is interesting. You did more altering in the last ten years than in the six centuries which preceded it. Very touching."

"Altering?" BJ repeated.

"Oh, now, that's the best part, friend. You were changing yourself and you didn't even realize it."

"I didn't change," he protested. Even as he said it, however, he remembered thinking that he had. When he'd finally broken down and acknowledged that Lydia had turned into a young adult, he'd also reconciled himself to the idea that he'd changed alongside her. "Well. Not much."

"Very subtle and very slow," Erebos noted. "Sure, when you first knew the girl she was a child... and children enjoy childish things. But maturity has its way with everyone in time, doesn't it? She'd have outgrown you in a matter of years if you'd stagnated, brushed you aside like an old discarded plaything. And you couldn't have that."

"She would never do that."

"Oh, she'd have been gentle about it, I'm sure. But you knew you couldn't keep making the same jokes, pulling the same antics. Had to clean up your act, didn't you? And - oh, my, you even cleaned up for real. Just a little, here and there. Fixed your teeth, cleaned your suit, that sort of thing."

"You're insane," BJ said flatly.

"Am I? I can see straight into your memories. You wanted her to look at you, really _look_ at you the way she might look at a human boy. The way she looks at you now," he added, "when you wear this form. The way _you've_ looked at _her_ for years." He shook his head, making sympathetic noises. "So many little subtle efforts over time, and did she even notice?"

"Get out of my head. Now."

"She didn't. She didn't pay a lick of attention, not until you signed that piece of paper and turned into what you are right now. Oh, then you were good enough for her, weren't you? Kissed you and everything - once you were a handsome prince, that is. Didn't think twice about it while you were still just a frog."

"You really think it matters to her what I look like?"

"Hmm... in some respects, perhaps not. After all, it's not what you are on the outside, is it? It's who you are on the inside. And on the inside, you're just another spook." He shook his shadowy head. "You used to be the greatest of us, you know. I heard a rumor once that you could conquer the whole Neitherworld if you chose, just because your power was that strong. But you spend all your time chasing pretty human tail... you're not half the specter you used to be."

BJ growled. "You don't ever speak like that about her. You understand me?"

"Did I touch a nerve? Chivalry is apparently not dead after all. Very well, that was unworthy of me and I recant. But if she was worth so much trouble, why _didn't_ you conquer the Neitherworld?"

He blinked, so confused by the sudden switching of questions that he forgot to be angry for a moment. "And do what with it?"

"Give it to her! Think of it..." Erebos chuckled. "You could have made her queen of everything. You probably would have, too, if she'd ever thought to ask. What respect she would have had for your power then, hm? You could have ruled over all of us, side by side. Instead, you had to submit to a contract with the Fairy Godfather just to get what you wanted. And look how well that's worked out for you."

He fell silent, his eyes on BJ's face, and in spite of himself BJ pondered the notion. _Would_ that have been a good idea? The Neitherworld loved Lydia, if only for the fact that she'd been able to bring him to heel; the idea of her holding sway over the whole population amused him. Lydia Deetz, Queen of the Dead.

"Oh, but who are we kidding," Erebos added idly. "She'd still only see you as her court jester. Always there to make her laugh, but nothing more. To paraphase your own words from a similar time, she'd be a princess and you'd just be a punk. Perhaps you took the right course after all; at least this way, you don't have to share her with anyone who might come closer to being good enough for her."

"You know," said BJ, shaking himself out of his reverie, "I'm still not hearing anything that would really interest me in a deal."

"No? Perhaps you might consider a different one, then." Erebos swirled around him for a moment. "Join forces with me, and not only will I reunite you with your precious beloved, but I'll help you finally become what she wants - turn you into the man she really deserves." He chuckled. "Maybe that's more appealing to you, friend?"

The sun had been inching higher in the sky throughout the conversation, and it suddenly broke through the window with a vengeance. Erebos hissed. "You think on it. We'll talk again soon."


	14. Speakin' Outta Broken Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hugo feels bad about everything - although not quite bad enough to stop him from asking curious questions.

When Hugo entered her kitchen the morning after he managed to ruin everything, Lady Delphine was presiding over her stove, making breakfast. It was a familiar sight; she'd pushed early meals on him many times since he'd first made her acquaintance.

"You need to eat," she said, not looking up.

"I'm not hungry."

"I didn't ask, did I? Did you get much sleep?"

"More than I expected," he admitted.

"I made a point of stuffing a few particular herbs inside your pillowcase. Figured it wouldn't hurt, under the circumstances. Guilt will keep a body awake longer than most other emotions; I think only grief supercedes it, which makes me wonder how much sleep BJ managed to get."

He made a noncommittal noise, sitting down at her table and staring into a cup of tea. "I really made a mess of things."

"Child, ever since you stumbled across my path I have tried to make you remember two things. One is that what I do - what you want to do - is not a toy. The other is that beating yourself up for your mistakes doesn't help anybody. You want to make things right for BJ and Lydia, then you help me figure out this mess."

"Yes ma'am."

"But first, you eat your breakfast." She put a plate in front of him. "You can't hardly help anybody if your stomach's growling."

Reluctantly, he started to obey the order. He'd barely gotten two mouthfuls down when the doorbell rang, and he looked up. "Should I -"

"You stay put. If it's something unfriendly, I want you out of its line of sight." She turned off the gas and wiped her hands on a towel, then made her way through the cluttered rooms to the front door. "Oh, good morning, BJ - well, morning, anyway, I don't imagine there's much good about it. You look like you slept for about twenty minutes in total. Come inside and have something to eat."

"Thanks." The blond youth followed her back to the kitchen, giving Hugo a half-hearted wave as he entered.

"I'm guessing," Delphine said casually, returning to the stove and turning on the flame once more, "that you've had that early morning visitor I told you to expect."

"Is it that obvious?"

"Boy, you might be a poltergeist - or something - under ordinary circumstances. Right now, though, you're as human as I am, and if there's one thing I can identify in an instant, it's the face of a human who's had a run-in with something despicable."

"Apparently he really wanted to talk to _you_ ," BJ informed Hugo, who winced. "I got the impression I was more of his second choice."

"Hugo's a magnet," Delphine explained, dishing up a second plate and delivering it to the table. She caught BJ's eyes and pointed at its contents, somewhat imperiously, though she didn't actually tell him to start eating.

"A magnet? Meaning what?"

"Some people, for whatever reason, have a tendency to attract the attention of spirits. I'd wager your Lydia might be something similar, all things considered," she added. "That's how Hugo ended up here in New Orleans. He's as drawn to them as they are to him, and the more malevolent sorts would dearly love to have him on their side."

"I've had several teachers since I came here," Hugo added, "but Lady Delphine's the one who's taught me the most. She's..." He glanced at her. "When I came here I was just out of high school, ran away from my foster parents before they could kick me out. Lady Delphine's the only real mother I've ever had."

"Sentimental fool," she noted, though her tone was fond and she ruffled his hair. "He's an idiot, but I'll keep him."

BJ, to Hugo's surprise, made a noise that was somewhere between a laugh and a sob. "That's what Lyds calls me, too. Her idiot."

"Well, everyone says 'I love you' in their own way," she noted sagely. "It doesn't really matter how you say it, so long as the person you're addressing can hear it. Eat, both of you."

"Did you have any luck?"

"What? Oh, well, I figured out a few things, after you left." Hugo was puzzled by the way she spoke; it was almost lackadaisical.

When nothing else seemed to be forthcoming, BJ pressed her. "Well?"

"Simplest form of magic, really. There's honestly not much challenge here," she said, somewhat airily. "You want to break this spell, all you've gotta do is kiss a princess."

"...I've got to what?!"

"Lady," Hugo protested, "that's your solution to everything! 'How do I break the spell?' 'Kiss a princess!' 'How do I stop this international terror plot?' 'Kiss a princess!' 'How do I fix the garbage disposal?' 'Kiss a princess!' Why is that always the answer?"

"Because it works!"

"Please tell me you're joking," BJ said weakly. "I don't even know how to _find_ a princess, let alone kiss one."

"You'll figure it out," she assured him, turning off the stove once more. "I can't give you all the answers, boy. You just keep that little idea in the back of your mind, and everything will fall into place sooner or later."

* * *

Lady Delphine excused herself shortly thereafter, saying something about wanting to complete the errands which had been interrupted the previous day. "Both of you set tight here," she said. "Long as you don't go out there, Erebos can't touch you. There's wards in place on this house."

Hugo's heart sank somewhat, since he highly doubted BJ was inclined to want to spend much time in his company - and now he had no choice, really. The sometime-specter lounged gracelessly in a chair, slouching down so his chin rested on his chest. Hugo didn't want to disturb him (perhaps if left alone, BJ would manage to get a little more sleep), so he took a book from the shelf and seated himself in the opposite corner.

After a few minutes of silence, however, BJ spoke. "So is she totally off her rocker with this princess thing? Or am I supposed to take her seriously?"

"It's a bit of a running joke," Hugo admitted, "but she's usually very serious in her intent with any advice she gives. Sometimes she speaks in metaphors, however; this might be one of those times."

"Right. That clears things up a lot, thanks."

"Sorry. I know it's confusing if you don't know her."

"You said she's your mother? Kind of?"

"Kind of. She took me in, fed me, taught me, helped me start a life for myself here. I'm not much older than you - well, I should say I'm not much older than you _look_. Erebos made it sound like you're a lot older than me."

"Kid, you don't know the half of it. What are you, then, 25 or so?"

"24."

"Much closer to Lydia's age. She'll be 22 in a few months."

Hugo hesitated, absentmindedly curling a page corner between his fingers. "Can I ask you about Lydia? Or would it be too painful?"

BJ rolled his eyes a bit, but shrugged. "Might as well ask. Not like I've got much else on my mind just now."

"I was just wondering... how did you end up in a contract that basically married you to a human?"

"Well, that's a long story." He paused. "You ever use something called Tumblr?"

"Er...no."

"Too bad. That would have saved a lot of exposition. Okay, well..." He stretched, and rubbed his eyes. "Sorry. Didn't sleep much. So it went like this..."

* * *

 

The prom story concluded, Hugo had a hard time not asking for more information. How did BJ and Lydia meet in the first place? When had BJ realized she was more than just his best friend? Was it very strange, being dead for so long and then partially brought back to life? Did her parents know they were married?

He was surprised that BJ was forthcoming, but maybe it was keeping his mind off of his worry and pain. "No. Chuck and Delia - her parents - know me, and as far as they know, we're engaged," came the clarification. "Technically, we're only married on 'the other side' as you insist on calling it. So a few weeks back was the tenth anniversary of the day we met; got her a ring, we agreed we'd make it legal on this side too. Delia's been driving Lyds batty ever since, trying to plan the wedding out from under our noses. All Babes wants to do is finish college without losing too many more of her marbles, but every day Delia's got another loony idea about what we should do." He actually smiled, for the first time since Lydia's disappearance. "I offered to elope to Transylvania just to get out of the whole thing. I think she'd go for it, but she's real close to her dad - it'd break her heart to not have him there."

As Hugo watched, the smile faded from BJ's face, and he seemed to almost fold in on himself. The clock in the room ticked loudly in the ensuing silence.

"So you have any idea where I can find a princess?" The question was so abrupt that it caught Hugo off guard. "Because that's about the dumbest idea I've ever heard, but I'll do it if it means Lyds comes back."

"Not off the top of my head. But I'm sure between the three of us, we'll think of something."

"If I just knew she was okay, I could handle it a lot better," BJ remarked listlessly, even as the door opened.

"I'm afraid I can't give you that reassurance," said Delphine as she entered. Hugo immediately jumped up to relieve her of her shopping. "I met our antagonist in the marketplace, and he confirms what I suspected. I couldn't trace Lydia's essence last night because she's crossed over."

Hugo almost dropped the bag. "She's dead?!"

"Rather thoroughly."

"Oh God - I never meant to kill her!"

BJ, however, seemed oddly encouraged. "She's in the Neitherworld?"

"As far as I'm given to understand, yes."

"That's all right, then. She's got friends there - they'll make sure she's safe." He looked far less despondent. "It's enough for the moment. Don't worry about it, kid," he added, glancing at Hugo. "Lyds was partly dead to begin with - it was a condition of the contract that bound us. All you did was send her home, kind of."

"That's... good, I guess," Hugo said, perplexed. "But it doesn't clear up much."

"No. But it's a start."


	15. Some Sweetness Going Around

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prince Vince, in the absence of Beetlejuice, is trying his best to take care of Lydia.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It never hurts to have friends in high places. Or on Tumblr. (I can attest to that one personally.)

By rights, Lydia was entitled to stay in Beetlejuice's Roadhouse, and such was her initial intent. She lasted perhaps six hours before Jacques brought the word that she found it intolerable. Perhaps it was to be expected; ten years' worth of memories assailed her within its walls, and a mind can only bear so much pain. Prince Vince, therefore, felt it his duty to step in and act, in Beetlejuice's absence, as his wife's protector, and offer her the hospitality of his small castle. Her acceptance was gracious, full of gratitude and relief.

He was glad to have her there, in spite of the circumstances, and he was doing his best to keep her spirits up as much as possible. She had her own creepily appointed suite of rooms, which she might arrange to her liking, and all the macabre finery he could procure on such short notice. She could come and go as she pleased without hindrance; she could have any visitors she liked. His servants were directed to adhere to her wishes just as if he had issued them himself. Anything he could do to ease her transition to permanence in the Neitherworld, he would happily do, and given that she had spent so much time there already, he presumed it would not be too difficult an adjustment.

Lydia had told him once that time in the Outerworld passed more slowly than it did in the Neitherworld, or at least such was her theory. He hoped it was true, because it meant that Beetlejuice didn't have to go quite so long without seeing "the sunshine of his afterlife." But as the days started to slide past, the prince grew increasingly aware that Lydia herself was not doing very well. She tried, he knew; she smiled at intervals, spoke gently, kept up the same respectful and well-mannered demeanor which had always endeared her to his people. But her every word, every gesture had a profound undercurrent of quiet sorrow. It was only natural, of course, and he understood.

Or at least, he thought he did.

* * *

"Sire."

Prince Vince looked up from his book and blinked at the retainer who spoke. "Yes?"

"My apologies for the intrusion, Your Highness, but it's Miss Lydia. She's out in the royal garden, and..." He hesitated.

"Is something wrong?"

"Her Ladyship is weeping, sire."

"I see."

"I know that's perhaps to be expected, all things considered. But I thought you ought to know."

"Thank you. I'll see what I can do."

He abandoned his reading and made his way to the garden. Lydia was seated on a low wall, and had apparently been sketching a crop of deadly nightshade. For reasons not quite within his own understanding, this had somehow triggered the upset; perhaps it brought up a memory of which he had no knowledge. "Are you all right, my friend?" he inquired gently.

She was relatively calm, he noted; he must have missed the bulk of the storm. "I'm about as well as can be expected," she replied honestly, her voice a slightly shaky hiccup. "Your gardens are very spooky and beautiful."

"So beautiful that they can move person to tears," he agreed, pretending that he believed that to be the whole reason for her crying.

She shot him a grateful smile. "Exactly."

"Is there anything I can do to make your stay more comfortable? Perhaps have some of the flowers placed in your rooms?"

"Oh, thank you, but no. You've been kindness itself already, you really have."

"It's the least I can do for my old and dear friends."

Lydia lowered her head with a small sigh. "I appreciate everything you've done, Your Highness. I really do. I just seem to be having a harder time than I expected getting used to all this. I never thought my death would come so soon, I guess."

"And you're worried for those you've left behind - it's perfectly understandable."

She nodded. "I keep thinking about my parents. I'm an only child, you know. I can't stand to think of how crushed they'll be when they learn the truth, especially my father."

He raised an eyebrow, curious as to her deliberate omission of Beetlejuice's name. "It will be hard on them, I imagine."

"I thought I'd be a lot more okay with all of this," she admitted, "especially considering how much time I've spent here already. I love the Neitherworld, you know, I really do."

"And the Neitherworld loves you too. I'm sure one of our friends must have told you about the petition for your statue."

"Yes. I want to laugh, but I... I can't, not yet. The longer I'm here, the more I feel sad - and scared," she confessd.

"Scared? You?" Prince Vince was genuinely surprised by that. "I've always regarded you as quite fearless, to be honest. The adventures you've had over the years - you've been endangered so many times, but you always kept coming back for more. And I can't help but remember what Flubbo said at your party. An eternal commitment to Beetlejuice didn't frighten you, so what possibly could?"

Instantly he wished he could take back the question. It was a thoughtless blunder, a well-meaning remark that had somehow gone awry. Lydia lifted her head and looked at him steadily; he could see the pain written clearly in her dark eyes, and he regretted having brought up the recollection. But when, after a brief pause, she answered the query, his regret was lost in his astonishment.

"The thought of never seeing him again."

The prince was thunderstruck by her words. It had been quite a long time since he had observed the extraordinary fact that Beetlejuice, whatever his faults, genuinely loved Lydia. But now, for perhaps the first time, it was suddenly dawning on him that the reverse was equally true - that Lydia returned her husband's devotion in full. It wasn't that he had ever believed this wasn't the case; rather, it was simply that he had never given it much thought, fascinated as he was by the poltergeist's atypical situation. But now it was clear to him, as evident as the dark circles under Lydia's eyes. As much as it might be imagined Beetlejuice was suffering in the Outerworld without her, _she_ was suffering just as much in the Neitherworld without _him_ , and Prince Vince felt as though he had never properly done her justice. He longed to comfort her, console her, bolster her failing courage. He just wished he knew how.

"Don't give up hope." It was the only thing he could think to say.

* * *

The following morning, after an exceptionally intense Tumblr browsing session, the prince sent for Lydia. She attended him in his throne room, looking somewhat nonplussed, and he offered a small smile to try to put her at ease.

"I've been thinking about what you said yesterday," he said. "How much you miss your family, how much you worry about them. I would fix that for you if I could."

"I'm sure you would," she replied in a faintly puzzled tone. He supposed he couldn't blame her for being uncertain.

"As that's rather beyond my abilities, I would like to offer an alternative - namely myself."

Her eyes widened, and too late he realized how that must have sounded. Hurriedly, he continued, "I also am an only child, and have often found it tiresome and solitary. What I am proposing is that I would formally adopt you into the Neitherworld royal family. I can hardly replace the loved ones your unfortunate situation has forced you to leave behind, but you would at least gain me for your brother. I hoped it might be some small consolation to you, and perhaps somewhat less absurd than you seem to find the idea of a statue."

Lydia visibly relaxed, and actually smiled. "That's about the nicest thing anyone could do for me right now, Prince Vince. I'm trying to keep the truth from Beetlejuice's family as long as I can, just in case something works out after all, so... it would be good to have someone else I can call my family too."

"Then it shall be so decreed." He beckoned to one of his staff, who moved to present Lydia with a delicate silver coronet, shaped rather like a spiderweb and adorned with jeweled insects. "Henceforth, you are the sister to the crown - Lydia, the Princess of Beetles." He chuckled. "I trust that the title is to your liking."

"I think it suits me pretty well." She tried on the little diadem, nesting it carefully in her hair. "Well? Will I do?"

"It's quite charming, Your Ladyship," offered the retainer, bowing politely and backing away.

"I have to agree," said the prince. "You're a welcome addition to my court, Lydia. I wish it could be under better circumstances, but I'm happy you accepted my offer."

"Thank you, Your High-" He gave her a playfully scolding look, and she caught herself. "Sorry. Vince."

Once Lydia had left the room, seeming at least slightly more cheerful, Prince Vince sighed. "I've done all I can, Beetlejuice," he murmured. "I just hope it's enough... the rest is up to you."


	16. Never Did Get What He Wanted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Heroes versus villain, round two, FIGHT!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd like to dedicate this chapter to Clockwork Annie, with my gratitude for all her lovely reviews. :)

"Is he really that determined to get me, do you think?"

It was evening, shortly before sundown, and Hugo had not been able to stop thinking about what BJ had said in the morning - his assertion that he had been Erebos's second choice of target. Lady Delphine, grinding herbs in her mortar, shot him a look.

"And if he is? What do you propose to do? Seek him out?"

"Well, I can't stay here forever, can I?"

"You're safe here."

"Sure, _I'm_ safe - meanwhile, Erebos could go after just about anyone in the city." He paced around restlessly.

"My boy, you need to think carefully before you decide to do anything. You overstepped yourself once already," she observed.

"No offense, Lady, but I don't really need to be reminded of that."

"And it's not my intention to upset you. But I want you to give great consideration to your next step before you lose your footing."

"I brought him here," Hugo muttered irritably. "It's my fault. I _should_ face him."

"There's some truth to that." She sealed the Mason jars into which she had been dividing the various herbal combinations.

"And I killed a young woman. I don't think I'll ever recover from that," he admitted.

"Oh, I wouldn't count Lydia out just yet. Anyone who can tame a poltergeist into a tolerable husband has to have some exceptional skills," Delphine noted lightly. "Death probably doesn't have as firm a grip on her as it would like to think it does. But it will be up to BJ to bring her back - that task can't fall to you."

"You told me that in order to help them, I have to help you make this right. What should I do, then?"

She didn't answer right away, just looked out the window at the approaching night. "He's out there. The one good thing, my boy, is that he's so bent on getting either you or BJ, he's not paying too much attention to anyone else. Except me, but that's to be expected."

He sobered at that, and watched her face for a moment. "What did he say to you, Lady?"

"The usual things. Spoke of my daughter, my pathetic attempts to replace her with you and any other stray that stumbles across my path. Nothing I haven't already heard from a dozen of his ilk in days past. And then he congratulated me on your success in bringing him over to this side, while at the same time sending Lydia away." She snorted. "He's a fool. He gave me exactly what I needed without my having to ask."

"You mean the information about where Lydia is?"

"That, for starters. That was really more what BJ needed. What I needed to understand was where BJ's powers have gone - he claims to have considerable magic, but as we've seen, he can't access it. Erebos let it slip that it's with Lydia."

Hugo hesitated. "Is that a good thing?"

"It's really the best possible situation, under the circumstances. For one thing, it's possibly the only reason BJ hasn't done something we'd all regret," she noted wryly. "It also means he can't be tempted into any sort of deal with Erebos that involves giving up even a fraction of that power. Erebos would love to get his shadowy little mitts on it, if it's anything close to what BJ claims it is - and from something he implied, it may in fact be even greater than that. So if it's with Lydia, it's safe, and it may serve to protect her in the meantime."

"I guess that makes sense. So how does BJ get her back, then?"

"Well, now." She turned away from the window at last, and looked at him thoughtfully. "That is the question, isn't it? But it's a question to which I don't have the answer, boy. The only one who knows the answer is BJ himself."

He thought that over for a moment. "Then maybe I should go see him. If - if he doesn't completely hate me, of course, maybe we can work together to set things right."

"Hm. That's an idea." He had the feeling she had been waiting for him to say it.

"I'll go now."

"Hold your horses. I want you to remember the same thing I told him," she said. "Find a truth within yourself. Something you believe with all your might. It'll be your shield against Erebos and his deceptions. He's going to hurt you as best he can, my lad. He'll say the harshest things, bring up your most painful memories. You'll have to be strong, stronger than you've ever had to be. Are you sure you can do that?"

"...no," he admitted, almost sheepishly. "But I have to try."

"Ah, good, you've learned something." She rose from her seat. "Do try not to die, there's a good boy. I would miss you."

Hugo looked down at her; she was so much larger than life to him, he sometimes forgot how short she actually was, barely reaching his chin. He bent a little and kissed her on the cheek. "Thank you, Lady. I won't let you down."

* * *

It took a few minutes before BJ answered his door at the hotel. "Oh, it's you," he said. "Good, I was starting to feel like I was missing out on some plot points."

"How are you?"

"Kid, you ever spin your head around for the sheer fun of it and then afterwards feel like you went in the wrong direction and you're gonna be sick?"

"Er... no."

"Well, then, you don't have the necessary frame of reference for how I'm feeling. Now what brings you here?"

"Can I come in?"

"Might as well."

The little suite of rooms looked cute and comfortable, but Hugo supposed that all BJ really saw everywhere were reminders of Lydia. A suitcase of what was obviously her clothing sat open on a bench near the window; the photograph Lady Delphine had returned was propped up on the bedside table; a hairbrush sat on the dressing table, tangled up with strands of glossy black hair. "Have a seat," BJ said, gesturing gracelessly at a chair. "Want some coffee? I hate the stuff, but I can't sleep so I'm sort of living on it."

"Thanks, no. So... Lady Delphine and I were talking, and I..." He fidgeted. "I need to face Erebos. It's my fault he's here and I've got to confront him."

"Oh yeah?" BJ looked at least mildly interested. "I ain't about to argue with you, but that doesn't explain why you're here. I mean, I don't have him under the bed or anything."

"Well, I didn't think you did. But he's after me, and he's after you, and I just thought..."

"What, we should team up for the next face-off?"

"Something like that."

"I'll level with you, kid. If he came through the window right now, I don't know if I'd have the energy to even argue with him. I haven't slept more than ten minutes at a shot since all this went down. I didn't know it was possible to _be_ this tired." He scrubbed at his face with his hands. "So not to second guess you or anything, but I'm probably not the most helpful guy in the city just now."

"If it's any consolation," Hugo offered, "Lady Delphine said she thinks Lydia is probably strong enough to pull herself back, if you help her."

BJ cracked a smile at that. "Lyds is strong enough for just about anything. She's the greatest person I know."

"She also said it's up to you to bring her - she said I can't do it. But I'm not sure why that would be."

"No idea."

They sat in silence for a few minutes. "I thought he'd be here by now, actually," BJ said absently. "He said this morning that he'd be back. Sunrise chased him off, but I really expected he'd have returned by now."

"What do we do when he does?"

"Well, based on my experiences this morning, we're gonna have to listen to him say all kinds of crap about us. I got treated to an entire barrage of facts that either reminded me I'm not good enough for Lydia or pointed out that our relationship is never gonna work. Believe me, it's nothing I haven't thought about myself more than once." He shrugged. "Babes could have done a hell of a lot better for herself and I know it."

"I wonder what he'll say to me," Hugo mused.

"Well," said a new voice, "wonder no more."

* * *

The smoky figure of Erebos poured itself through the open window. Hugo was pretty sure his own face was a mask of unease; BJ, for his part, still only looked tired. "About time," he said with a yawn. "I was starting to think you'd stood me up."

"Well, gentlemen, here I am," said the specter pleasantly. "My, my, Hugo. I didn't think the mother hen was going to allow you out of her sight. Did you have to sneak out of an upstairs window like the child she thinks you are?"

"She knows I'm here." His voice was misleadingly steady.

"Ooh, have we gotten feisty! I'm proud of you. So you came here so the two of you can stand up to me together, did you? Safety in numbers and all that?" Erebos chuckled. "We'll see." He glanced at BJ, who regarded him with half-lidded eyes. "I almost don't even want to waste my breath on you, lover boy," he said. "You're so washed up with your grief that it's pathetic. All this fuss over a little human. But I'll come back to you; you're still worth something. Right now, I want to talk to the little man with the books - been trying to chat with him all day, but his fake mommy wouldn't let me get anywhere near."

"You can't win against us both, Erebos," said Hugo. "We know how to protect ourselves from you."

"So then I just move on to this city you love so much. Little man, you really think the city loves you back? Your precious lady in blue thinks of you as the replacement for the child she lost; if you're gone she'll just find another substitute. And nobody else would even notice if you disappeared tomorrow."

"I know. I don't care."

"Big talk for the little man. It's been this way your whole life, you're like a ship that was set loose on a stormy sea and can't find a port. You just wash up wherever you do and hope that it's a friendly shore. Parents up and left you, then you bounced from foster home to foster home. Oh, I know, some of the things you saw - some of the things you lived - wouldn't wish them on anyone, would you? And then you fled here as soon as you could, heard the Big Easy calling your name. Brought you down to dwell among the ghosts. That's all you are, Hugo. You're a ghost in this town, and the sad part is that you haven't even figured out yet that you died a long time ago."

 _Find your truth and hold on tight_ , Lady Delphine's voice said in his mind. He was trying... he was trying. But the stabbing in his soul was louder than her words. "I did not."

"Sure you did. Oh, little man, they killed you good; they took your heart and soul when you were just a boy. Stripped you of whoever you might have been. Life's been a series of missed chances and almost-made-its. But I can help you, Hugo. You know I can. Everything the lady in blue taught you, I can teach you ten times over. There'll be no more fumbling, no more getting it wrong. With me at your side, things are gonna start going your way for the first time in your life."

It couldn't really be that simple. Could it?

"What... what would I have to do?"

"Hey! Kid!" BJ snapped. "Wake up!"

"No, I just... I can't turn down an offer if I don't at least hear it first, can I?"

"Little man, you've got more sense than I gave you credit for," said Erebos approvingly. "It's so easy to dismiss what you don't know. But the educated man, the wise man, he learns his options before he makes his decision. I'm not asking much, Hugo. I need a way into this city; you need a way to make the city understand you're here. I could love her like you love her, if you just let me..."

"Stop it!" BJ interrupted. "Kid! This whole thing started because you were trying to keep him _out_ of the city! Remember?"

Remember. Did he remember? "I was?"

"You knocked my wife into another plane of existence! Ring a bell?! Don't do this!"


	17. But He Had What He Needed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Heroes versus villain, round three, FIGHT!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was thoroughly scolded by one of my betas for leaving that last chapter on a cliffhanger. But I love cliffhangers!
> 
> Also, I would just like to add that this story actually is finished. I'm only releasing one chapter each day, but it's done and has been for some little time. :) However, the final chapter with the questions and answers that I promised is not done, so if you want to ask anything for that, feel free.

As BJ watched, Hugo stood irresolute. There was some kind of war going on inside the kid's mind, he knew; he understood, at least to an extent, how hard this was for him.

"No deals," he snapped. "Don't listen to him, kid. You think Delphine would have sent you over here if she didn't think you were smart enough not to listen to this jerk?"

"You know, Beetlejuice," said Erebos, "you talk too much."

"Yeah, it's always been part of my charm."

"Well, maybe you should... quiet down."

Before BJ could formulate a response, he felt himself sort of thrown back onto the bed. He tried to speak, but his tongue wouldn't cooperate. Something seemed to be holding him down, and he wrestled with the invisible weight.

"No," Hugo mumbled at last. "She... she knows..."

"She doesn't know as much as she thinks she does," Erebos continued. "She thinks with her heart. You're a man of the mind. And think of this - you help me, I can help you help her."

 _Oh great_ , thought BJ. _He's targeting the kid's weak spot, just like he tried to target mine_. "Kid!" he managed. "He's lying! Find that truth she told you to use!"

"Truth is subjective," Erebos intoned silkily. "There are so few real absolutes in this world. You know that, Hugo."

"Truth," he mumbled, shaking his head. One hand reached up to rub his temple.

It took more strength than he thought he possessed at the moment, given how bone tired he was, but BJ managed to finally roll off the bed and land in a heap on the floor. It was progress, at least. He picked himself up with a grumble and shuffled to Hugo's side. "Either tell him off or I'm taking you out," he muttered.

"...out..."

"Guess I'm accepting requests." He grabbed Hugo's hand, pulling the arm to which it was attached across his own shoulders, and looped his other arm around the kid's waist. "C'mon, I'm getting you back to Delphine."

"You think you can outrun me?" Erebos chuckled. "You think you can run away from the wind? Even in your powerless state, your ego is a thing of wonder, Beetlejuice."

"I can try," he retorted, pulling Hugo into the corridor and slamming the door. It wasn't a perfect barrier - Erebos could weasel his way under the doorjamb or even through the keyhole - but maybe it would at least slow him down. And if he could just get Hugo far enough away from him for a little while, it might let the kid regain his senses.

* * *

They scuttled awkwardly, like some kind of deranged crab, out into the night air. There were enough people on the street that BJ figured they wouldn't be immediately obvious to any shadowy onlookers, and he set about half-dragging, half-carrying Hugo in the direction of Delphine's house. "I thought your teacher had more sense," he growled. "Look at you. One round of Erebos calling you out for crap that wasn't even your fault and you can barely walk. She should have kept you home."

"I can walk," came the feeble reply. "I think."

"What was all that about her using you as a replacement, anyway?"

"Lady had a daughter, years ago, who died as a baby," he managed, contributing a bit more to their movement. "That's when she started getting interested in protecting the city and the people. She knows a lot about a lot of things, but she only practices a little; she's more into herbalism and healing than anything else. She doesn't want other people to suffer like she suffered."

"So she feeds the stray cats and the occasional stray runaway, is that it?" BJ eased his grip on Hugo, sensing that he was able to operate more under his own power.

"Something like that. I guess that's why we were drawn to each other - she lost her baby and I lost my parents."

"Yeah. Sometimes the people you need just sort of fall into your life. Or afterlife, in my case."

"Is this... is this what he did to you? Went into your head and told you things you don't like about yourself?"

"Pretty much. The difference between me and you is that all your issues are bad things that happened to you. I'm more like a bad thing that happens to other people." He chuckled in spite of himself.

"You can't be _that_ bad."

"Poltergeist, kid. Comes with the territory. Though I admit, Erebos has me half wondering if that's really what I am after all - pretty sure your average poltergeist isn't supposed to get a happy ending. He said maybe there isn't a word for whatever kind of spook I am."

"Hm." Hugo seemed to digest that without comment.

"Well, was. Without my powers I'm just another human."

"Too true," said the voice behind them. They looked back to see what almost appeared to be a storm cloud bearing down on them.

"Damn it. Can you run, kid?"

"I can try -"

"Then go!" BJ pushed him sideways, toward an opening to a side street. It wasn't the way to Delphine's house, but at this point, 'away' seemed like a good option. They stumble-ran, tripping over each other and picking one another up, even as the hairs standing up on the backs of their necks told them their pursuer remained not far behind.

"What the - _dead end_?!"

They had turned a corner only to find themselves staring in dismay at a brick wall. "Are you kidding me?" BJ asked in disbelief. "Who in the world wrote this episode?! I ever get back to the Neitherworld, I'm gonna wring Monitor's neck - I bet one of his hacks took the job..."

"I wouldn't worry about that too much, Beetlejuice," said Erebos.

* * *

They turned to face him, and maybe it was sleep deprivation or Lydia deprivation or some kind of combination of the two, but BJ had left fear and exhaustion far behind him and was now powered entirely by adrenaline and rage. In that respect, at least, the situation resembled his nightmare. "You're not getting this kid, Erebos. I don't care what I have to do to stop you, but I'm not letting you take him."

"Brave talk for a powerless human." The shadowy figure whisked around the alleyway. "I guess that means I have to get you out of the way first, then. That shouldn't be too hard. Though I do have to wonder why you're protecting the person who's responsible for your predicament."

"It was an accident. If he'd done something to Lyds on purpose, there wouldn't be anything left for you to try to take. But I'm not gonna destroy somebody who made a mistake while he was trying to do something good." He paused. "Whoa, was that really me talking?"

Erebos laughed. "You've gone so soft. It would be hilarious if it weren't so pathetic. And as for Hugo... well." He swirled around the young man, even as BJ attempted futilely to bat him away. "He and I can talk later. For right now, let's rid ourselves of distractions!" And just as BJ had been flung at the bed back in the hotel, Hugo was suddenly yanked sideways, crashing into a pair of garbage cans.

"Kid!"

"Never mind him, Beetlejuice. You and I are going to have a talk now." Erebos was apparently getting annoyed at all the denials; his voice had lost any gentility it had once held. "You know I can get you what you want - all you have to do is give me what I need. And if you won't, then you're going to step aside and let me deal with this kid, as you call him."

"And what is it you need from me?"

"Your power! Even just a fraction of the power you possess would be enough for me."

"Yeah, only problem is, I don't have it - as you keep pointing out. Hugo here wiped it away from me right along with Lyds."

"Which means we just need to bring it back."

"Even if I could do that, and I can't, I wouldn't. Kid did a smarter thing than I realized, putting it out of your reach." He smirked. "So I guess you're gonna have to break me, because I'm not stepping aside."

"I can do that. Shall we talk more about the last ten years? About all the ups and downs, about the beatings of a heart that was dead? About how -"

"What do you want from me, anyway?" BJ interrupted. "You want me to say you're right? Fine! You're right! I've had it too good for too long!"

Erebos merely smiled, and it only made him angrier. "But if you think I'm sorry," he added, "if you think you can bring me down by making me feel guilty about any of it, you're barking up the wrong tree. Because I'm _not_ sorry."

"Oh?"

"Lemme explain something to you, _friend_. I'm a poltergeist. I didn't decide to be one, but that's what I am, and I happen to be awfully good at it." An unpleasant smile curled his lips. "And as a poltergeist, I'm supposed to do two things. One, I drive people crazy. I have a _license_ to drive people crazy and I've turned it into an art form. It's what I do. And two, I'm supposed to find one person and fixate on them. Well, it took me six hundred years of being dead, but I found her!"

"Found her and ruined her life."

"You'd have to get her opinion on that. I never expected to drag her into this as far as I have, and I never expected her to come so willingly, and I definitely never expected her to sign that contract." He started advancing on Erebos, taking a great deal of satisfaction from the vaguely unnerved expression on the shadowed face. "But she did. That's my _wife_."

And suddenly, he understood what Delphine had meant - he knew what his personal truth was. With a grin which could almost be called triumphant, he added, "Maybe I'll never in a million years understand _why_ she loves me, but she _does_. And _that_ , you half-rate haunting, is something you can't ever take away from me!"

Erebos nodded slowly. "Very good. You found a defense, Beetlejuice. No, I can't take that away from you. Truths are untouchable, even when they don't make sense. The question that remains for you, though, is how much comfort it provides to cling to that truth when she herself remains out of reach."

"She's safe. That's all that matters to me."

"BJ..."

He turned, having almost forgotten about Hugo in his short burst of victory. "Kid! You okay?"

"Lady Delphine said... you can bring her back. Only you can. But I don't... know how."

"Yeah, well, without my magic, neither do I."

"She has it..."

BJ blinked. "Delphine?"

"No." Hugo chuckled weakly. "Lydia. It went... with her."

"It - _what_?" He slapped himself in the forehead. "Why didn't I think of that?" He whirled back to face Erebos again. "All right, Shady McShaderson. You want my power so much? You're about to get more than you can handle!"

"You can't -"

"If it works for her, it should work for me... Lydia, Lydia, Lydia!"

Though the sky overhead was clear, there came a sudden bolt of lightning, illuminating the entire alleyway, accompanied by an ominous thunderclap. BJ waited, standing in front of Hugo like a shield, and held his breath.


	18. You Said Just Enough

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's showtime. ;)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beetlejuice normally doesn't like it when Lydia's not happy... this time, however, he loves it.
> 
> It wasn't planned this way, but it so happens that this very important chapter is being released on the birthday of my best friend/enabler/self-appointed bodyguard/wielder of the Poking Stick of Doom (tm) Andrea. Happy birthday!

In the Neitherworld, Lydia was on her sixth day of what might be considered Beetlejuice withdrawal.

Apart from the affection of her friends and the recent acquisition of an honorary sibling, her one real consolation was that she had his magic to keep her company. She tried to stay away from the involuntary shapeshifting, as she wasn't fond of the way it made her insides squirm when she changed forms; knowing him, _he_ probably enjoyed it, but it was too alien a sensation for her to like it. Otherwise, it was almost like a game - pointing at various objects or snapping her fingers and watching as reality, on a small scale, adjusted itself according to her whims. She rearranged the furniture in her new rooms, changed the color of the walls in the dining room, and gave the kitchen staff a surprise afternoon off one day by making all the dishes wash themselves.

"Beej," she muttered, lying on her bed and twirling her coronet between her fingers, "your powers are a lot of fun, but frankly, I'd rather you still had them. And me." She sighed. "Does he even know what's happened to me, I wonder? Does he know I've got his magic?" Not for the first time, she studied the beetles on her little crown. There were four in total, each a different color, all made from crystal clear gemstones. "Princess of Beetles. I wonder what he'd think of that. Ugh, I need to stop monologuing, at least out loud."

And then she heard the thunder, and saw the lightning. "Huh?" She had time for no more of a reaction than that when she felt a sort of pop, not unlike when Hugo's ritual went awry.

* * *

The street where she found herself was unfamiliar, though the architecture of the surrounding buildings suggested that she had returned to New Orleans. "How...?"

Hearing a sound, she peered around the corner, where three figures were vaguely visible in a dead end. One was Hugo; he was somewhat sprawled on the ground, possibly injured. Another was a very indistinct sort of character, not much more than a plume of smoke which had assumed a personality. Standing between them, protecting Hugo, was the one person she had most desperately wanted to see, and it was a testament to her willpower that she hung back to assess the situation.

"Did you think that would work, Beetlejuice?" asked the shadow. "You honestly thought you could summon her the way she summons you?" So that was it - BJ must have figured out where she was and that she had his magic, and had called for her to come back to him. If he'd known sooner, he most likely would have tried it immediately. His antagonist, she realized, must be the Shadow Person that Hugo had tried so hard to keep out of his city; probably when she was banished, he was able to break through whatever had been keeping him out. And now he was threatening them... threatening _him_.

Lydia had seen her idiot get angry many times when she was in danger; indeed, there was no faster way to rile his temper. Now, maybe for the first time ever, she truly understood just how he felt in those moments. Stepping into the small pool of light afforded by the narrow alley's only lamp, she cleared her throat.

"Hey, shadow-brains... just _what_ do you think you're doing to my husband?"

The Shadow Person slowly revolved on the spot, staring at her in bewilderment and what she liked to think was dismay. Beyond him, BJ's smile was like the sun coming up. It almost cracked her resolve; she'd missed that smile so much.

"So... this would be the little lady, I presume," said the shadow. "How do you do, my dear? Call me Erebos. I'm a friend."

"You know, I'd love to believe you, but the fact that Hugo's lying on the ground kind of makes me think... what is the phrase I want... liar, liar, pants on fire?" She gestured toward the ground, smiling deviously as a burst of flame shot up briefly around what might be considered Erebos's legs.

"Very clever. I see what draws him to you," Erebos noted dryly. "We've had some interesting conversations on the subject, Beetlejuice and I... I must say, you do him an injustice. I don't think you ever really noticed or appreciated half of the things he's done for you over the years. The efforts he's made on your behalf, the sacrifices he's made in the hopes of winning your heart. Did you even know? Did you even care?"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"He changed himself for you in so many ways these last several years, tried to be better than he was because he felt that's what you deserved. And all that time, you never noticed, never gave it any thought. Why, you went out with other men right in front of him! The Prince of the Neitherworld, no less - for shame, Lydia, no wonder the poor devil felt outclassed."

Regardless of accuracy, it pained her to hear these things, and she took an involuntary step back. She glanced quickly at BJ, who had helped Hugo to stand up while Erebos was talking. He shook his head at her, and gave a little wink; relieved, she nodded to say she understood. "Do you ever get tired of the sound of your own voice, I wonder," she remarked.

Erebos darted around her, studying her thoughtfully. "Really, I have to admit - the way he goes on about you in his mind, I expected someone... well, more impressive."

"You know what they say," she replied dryly. "Good things come in small packages."

"So I hear. Well, your husband has been quite stubborn, but I'm hoping that since you serve as the voice of reason for him on so many occasions, you might be willing to hear out my offer."

"What can you possibly offer me that I couldn't just... take? You know, since I've been given the use of his powers." She smirked; she was pretty certain it was the same smirk Beetlejuice himself sometimes wore. "I can do just about anything right now, and I don't think a whiff of shadow is going to be enough to stop me."

"Let's not do anything hasty. I just want to talk."

He was nervous; good. This was starting to be fun, and she affected a yawn. "No, I think I'm done talking. It's kind of funny, having this magic; it seems to give me a liking for chaos that I don't normally have. Now, let's see... you're a shadow who likes to twist facts into painful lies. But there's an interesting thing about shadows, Erebos - they can't survive in the light."

"Lydia... consider what I could do for someone like you." He was starting to panic, and it delighted her in a strange sort of way. She extended one arm and snapped her fingers toward BJ and Hugo, outfitting them each with a pair of dark glasses.

"What would I need you for, Erebos? My future's so bright, I've gotta wear shades!" She put on a pair of her own, then held out her hand, palm up. A ball of light appeared and started to grow bigger; he shrank back, still trying to talk his way out of his own destruction. But the light, she quickly realized, wasn't strong enough by itself; it lit up most of the alley, true, but it also created shadows. There were dark places developing where he could hide, where the light couldn't go.

Erebos, now hidden, chuckled malevolently. "You've got the power but not the imagination, little lady. You don't have what it takes to bring me to heel!"

"Lyds," BJ called, "you need to amplify it! It's gotta burn brighter, force its way into every corner!"

"How do I do that?" she shouted back. Her hand was shaking from holding the magic for so long; she wasn't used to it.

"I dunno - you need, like, a mirror or something! Something to reflect the light!"

"Reflect the light..." She looked around wildly, but there was nothing. It was taking all her concentration just to maintain the ball of light, so manifesting a mirror out of thin air seemed out of the question. She looked at him helplessly; Erebos was laughing again, and it was rather getting on her nerves.

"You're too weak, little human! Even in this form, you don't have what it takes to handle this much raw power!" His voice echoed around her from the shadows. "You should join with me - I can teach you what you need to know. Think of what could be yours for the taking, with power like that and guidance like mine!"

BJ, she realized, was shouting at her again, and Erebos was doing his level best to drown out the words. The electric hum of the ball of light in her hand wasn't helping either. She peered at him; he was gesturing, pointing at his scalp.

"Babes, use that thing on your head!"

"What thing - oh!" She broke off suddenly, reaching up with her free hand and finding the coronet. It was small, but the silver and jewels would reflect the light decently, she thought. It was worth a try. She pulled it loose from her hair and held the ball of light to it, wondering what exactly would happen.

The results were altogether satisfying. Not only did the sculpted metal reflect the light admirably, but the four jeweled beetles sent rays of color scattering into the odd places in the alley, rendering the shadows unbearable to Erebos. He was full-on howling, rushing back and forth between one spot and the next in hopes of finding some relief.

"You can't take it, can you? You might as well face it," she heard BJ shouting. "You're just a joke! You run from the light because it's like the truth, it's stronger than you'll ever be! And so is she!"

"No," she shouted back, " _we're_ stronger, BJ! When we're together, anything's possible!"

At these words, the ball of light in her hand grew blindingly bright, and hot. The screams of the dying shadow echoed long after he had burned away; only then did she finally lower her hand to end the spell. She was trembling, and somehow exhausted, but the air was clear and Erebos was nothing but a memory.

"Well done," said a new voice. Lydia turned around to identify the speaker; it was a white-haired woman, dressed all in blue, who stood at the entrance to the dead end.

"What just happened? How did I destroy him?" she asked. "He put up way more of a fight than I expected, there at the end, but suddenly he just... went."

The woman smiled gently. "Well, as I told these two already, Erebos's real weakness isn't light - it's truth. Light lessens the power of a spirit like him, but what really takes away his sting is speaking truth. Your light had him on the run; when you told him what you believe, that you and BJ are better together, it was more than he could stand. He effectively destroyed himself in self-defense."

"Better him than me," Hugo joked. BJ looked at him in surprise, and then burst out laughing.


	19. Like I Told Y'All

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Questions and answers, and of course a kiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We are approaching the end. I hope you like what I've got planned for the rest of the story. Beta reader Ada was particularly helpful with this chapter, as she made a suggestion regarding the description of the spell breaking and it was just what I needed, so thank you for that!

When Erebos began to make his move through the city, Lady Delphine was tolerably certain she knew his object. She could sense him drawing closer, and started mentally preparing herself for the showdown she presumed was inevitable.

Of course, when he abruptly changed directions, it took her somewhat by surprise.

Troubled by this unexpected development, she hastily extinguished her candles and hurried out into the night air. It was difficult to track him with so many people on the street, and despite the humidity she felt strangely chilled. The crowd around her let out a yelp of surprise at the thunderclap and its accompanying flash of lightning. Delphine did not yelp, but it unnerved her all the same. She quickened her step, skirts whipping around her legs, and obeyed the instinct which drew her into a side alley.

They were all there - Hugo, Erebos, BJ, and what she imagined could only be the ghost version of the previously absent Lydia; she was paler and more gaunt than in her photograph, and somewhat formally attired - a bit overdressed for the occasion really - but otherwise the resemblance was powerful. One glance at BJ's euphoric countenance erased any possible doubts on that score. Delphine held back, not allowing herself to interfere; really, there was no need. Lydia had clearly gained the upper hand over her adversary, and the light in the little alley was all but blinding.

It was over in moments, and Delphine moved forward to congratulate Lydia. Belatedly she remembered that they had never actually met, and she couldn't fault the younger woman for her visible confusion. But there were more urgent matters at hand. Having offered an explanation for Erebos's defeat, she crossed to BJ and deftly removed him of the burden of Hugo. "I think you've got someone else to attend, boy," she said with a chuckle.

"You don't have to tell me," he replied, his voice weak with relief. Lydia lost no time in wrapping her arms tightly around his neck, and he responded with an embrace which lifted her clean off the ground.

"I was starting to think I'd never see you again," Lydia murmured. "You finally figured out you had to call me, huh?"

"Cut me some slack, Babes. It's been a rough couple of days."

He set her on her feet again after a long moment, and Lydia sighed, looking up at him. "BJ... I'm dead."

"So I've been told." He shrugged. "Not like death's ever been more than a minor inconvenience in our relationship, Lyds."

"I know, but it changes a lot of things."

"Not us," he said, somewhat defensively.

"No, nothing could change _us_. But I don't know what to have you tell my parents, and then there's school, and -"

Delphine chose that moment to clear her throat. "BJ," she said, "why don't you get on with breaking the spell?"

"Er...how?"

"I told you, boy! You have to kiss a princess!"

"Yeah, but that doesn't make any sense! Where am I gonna find -"

She cleared her throat again, cutting him off, and nodded at Lydia, who had started to giggle. "Really?" the younger woman managed. "That's what it takes?"

"I know, right?" BJ shook his head. "Dumbest idea ever. I mean, I'd do it for you, Lyds, but -"

"BJ, _I'm_ a princess!"

"...Lyds, you know I think you're twelve kinds of amazing, but since when are you royal?"

"You think I'm wearing this tiara because they're the height of fashion? Prince Vince gave it to me when he made me a princess."

"He did what?" BJ, to Delphine's profound amusement, looked entirely outraged. "How could he do that? You weren't even gone that long, Babes!"

"Not like _that_. You're still my one and only idiot." He was immediately appeased, and she continued. "He adopted me into his family, had me formally declared his sister." With another giggle, she added, "I'm officially known in the Neitherworld as the Princess of Beetles."

"Ohh, I get it now." BJ scratched his head. "He must have been watching Tumblr for a clue just like last time."

"Do y'all need an engraved invitation?" Delphine inquired. "Fine. I pronounce you idiot and wife, so hurry up and kiss the bride and let's get out of here!"

"Hey," he grumbled, but immediately moved to do exactly that.

* * *

The four made their way back to Delphine's house, where she set about treating Hugo for his minor injuries. Lydia, who was delighted to once again be in possession of a pulse, followed the healer's directives in preparing some tea, and they all sat down to go over the details of what had transpired since the ritual.

"Lady, what exactly happened to Erebos?" Hugo wanted to know. "Is he gone for good?"

"I suspect so. Death for the dead is unusual, but it happens. He's been obliterated - or as good as," she amended. "It's possible that he managed to escape to a completely different plane of existence, but I think I can safely say he won't be troubling our world any longer. But if you two will indulge me," she added, pointing at the men, "I have a question for you. Why were you laughing?"

"Laughing?"

"I was wondering that too," said Lydia. "After Lady Delphine explained how I defeated Erebos, Hugo, you said -"

"Oh, right!" He chuckled. "Well, right after you vanished, Lydia, BJ was... well, to call him angry would be an understatement. I was begging him not to kill me. He said he wouldn't kill me, but if I didn't fix the situation, he would make my life hell until I gave up and died in self-defense. So when Lady said that's what Erebos did... I remembered, and I couldn't help making the joke about 'better him than me'."

"And I'd kinda forgotten that I said that," BJ added, "so when he brought it up... yeah."

Of the quartet, Lydia naturally had the most to explain. Hugo was full of questions about her brief tenure in death, and she was relatively forthcoming, though Delphine occasionally hushed her boy when he tried to push farther than she felt was wise. "So I've been staying in the royal castle," she concluded, "and Prince Vince knew how much I was missing my family, and my living friends, and BJ more than anything. He offered to make me part of his family to try to cheer me up. I guess it's like BJ said, he must have been following along on Tumblr and realized that BJ needed to kiss a princess to break the spell, but I thought he was just being sweet."

"Possibly both," Hugo commented. "He sounds like a really nice guy."

"He is. He's always been a good friend." She finished her cup of tea. "How long have I been gone here, anyway? In the Neitherworld I've been at the castle for almost a week."

"Just a few hours shy of two days," Delphine assured her. "Not even long enough for anyone but BJ to really miss you. But he missed you enough for three people, I can tell you that."

"I don't have a whole lot to bring you up to speed on, Lyds," said BJ. "Erebos was trying to talk me into joining up with him and letting him get you back in exchange for some of my power. I didn't know you had it, at the time, but he was... well, you heard him in the alley. He's hard to swallow. Or was." He looked exhausted; Delphine thought that when they went back to their hotel, he was probably going to finally get some decent sleep... eventually. "You did me proud with the juice, though, Babes."

"I've been watching you for ten years. I had to have picked up _something_ ," she pointed out.

"Well, it was certainly impressive from where I was sitting," said Hugo weakly. "BJ was better at standing up to him than I was. I don't know what would have happened if he hadn't been there when Erebos came after me."

Lydia smiled at that, and gave her husband a warm look. "I'm proud of you. I know this was all really hard on you, but you did a great job."

"Well, y'know. I knew I'd find you sooner or later. It kept me going." He chuckled. "The Fairy Godfather's contract is good for something, know what I mean?"

"I wondered if that was who set that up for you," Delphine remarked mildly.

Lydia blinked. "You know the Fairy Godfather, ma'am?"

"Word of advice, children - never play Monopoly with that man. He's the worst rules lawyer you'll ever meet." She shook her head. "Absolutely refuses to even consider putting the tax money in the middle for whoever lands on Free Parking. Madness."

* * *

With the tea finished, and the hour growing late, BJ and Lydia left for their hotel. "Though mind you come back and say your proper farewells before you leave New Orleans," Delphine admonished them. "If y'all decide you're serious about settling down here, you let me know."

"We're still thinking about it," Lydia replied, "but I promise that you'll be one of the first people to know our decision."

"Good enough. You take care of that boy, now; he's been through the wringer."

"I will."

Delphine and Hugo watched from the door as their guests made their way down the street. BJ's arm was secure around her shoulders, and Lydia leaned into him slightly as they walked. "You think they'll be okay?" Hugo wondered.

"Oh, of course they will, dear," Delphine replied. "Meanwhile, let's use this as a teaching moment. Tell me what you observed when they broke the spell."

"What I - oh." He scratched his head thoughtfully. "Well, at first, Lydia's aura was full of darkness, and BJ didn't have any. But when BJ kissed the princess - I still can't believe that actually works - it started kind of siphoning off of her onto him. She grew brighter and he grew darker. And then when they pulled apart, it was like..."

"Yes?"

"The best way I can describe it is yin and yang," he mused. "She's mostly light, but she still has a pretty strong portion of darkness on her, and he's the opposite, mostly dark with a chunk of light. And I can't help but think that when you separate the yin and yang symbols, by themselves they don't look entirely right; but when you put them together you can see the completion. They're like that too."

"Very good." She shook her head. "I admit I'm still not sure what the Fairy Godfather was thinking, setting up an alliance like that between the living and the dead - but he seems to have known what he was doing."

"So that's a real ghost, then? How do you know him?"

"I could tell you stories, my child. I won't, of course, but I could. For now, you had best get some sleep."


	20. So Make a Wish

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lydia rewards BJ for his good behavior, they talk wedding, and Delphine provides an intriguing farewell gift.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many thanks to reviewer "Numbervania," who alerted me to the existence of the dining option inside the Insectarium. Once I read about that, I knew just what I wanted to do in this chapter.
> 
> I realized tonight that I'm not going to be around for the next few days, so rather than make anyone wait for their daily dose of idiotshipping, I'm posting the last few chapters now. I hope you enjoy it.

For their final day in New Orleans, Lydia had something rather particular in mind.

It took a while to get BJ out of bed, but judging by something Lady Delphine had said, she couldn't really blame him for wanting to sleep in - apparently he'd gotten very little sleep during the time they were apart. So she allowed him to stay in bed while she packed, made sure the bill was settled, and mailed the last of her postcards. By the time she returned to the room, he was awake and not overly pleased by her absence.

"Don't do that to me," he grumbled. "I just had to put up with two whole days like that, I'm in no rush for more."

"I left you a note," she pointed out. "Anyway, I'm glad you're up. I have a surprise for you."

"Oh really?" He waggled his eyebrows at her.

"Mmhmm. We're going back to the Insectarium."

"Okay, but... why?"

"Well, it turns out that we missed something, and I think you'll like it."

A little over an hour later, they found themselves inside the Insectarium's Tiny Termite Cafe. "I was in such a hurry to get outside last time we were here," Lydia explained, "that I didn't even realize they had this little restaurant. So when I found out, I fully intended to bring you here for our last day - I just didn't know, at the time, that I was going to miss a couple of days before that."

"Are you telling me... that I _can_ eat the stuff here?"

"Yes, but the Tiny Termite Cafe sells normal food. However," she continued with a smirk, "the Bug Appétit room is another story. It's almost time for the next cooking demonstration. They make all their dishes using actual bugs as ingredients."

"And to think I called you cruel for bringing me to this place," he mused. "Have I mentioned lately that I'm your idiot?"

"Probably, but I don't get tired of hearing it. I couldn't make good on those chocolate covered beetles I promised, but I had a feeling this might be an acceptable substitute."

He grabbed her hand and pulled her over to one of the tables, which was actually a glass display case filled with giant beetles. "Oh boy, oh boy, oh boy..."

The interior design of the Bug Appétit room was amusing to Lydia. There were giant photos all over the place of various insects, as well as the large specimens inside the tables which served as cases. BJ, for his part, was like a kid in a candy store; he had his chin on his hands for the entire cooking demonstration, performed by the chef of one of the nearby restaurants. She quite willingly let him have her share of the food that was prepared, and he beamed at her with his mouth full of Crispy Cajun Crickets.

"All I ask is that you don't talk with your mouth full," she said mildly.

Obediently he swallowed. "This is so much better than chocolate covered beetles."

"I'm glad you think so. I did have the idea a couple of days ago, but after everything that's happened, I wanted even more to make sure we got here." She watched him eat, only slightly revolted. "I know the last couple days weren't easy on you. I'm really proud of you - you resisted Erebos, you protected Hugo, and you figured out how to bring me back."

"Hey, you were pretty impressive too. Though I was a little disappointed," BJ added with a laugh. "I totally expected you to say 'It's showtime!' before handing Erebos his own rear end."

"I thought about it, but that's really more your thing." Lydia smiled. "I guess I'll have to find my own catchphrase in case I ever end up 'borrowing' your powers again. I have to admit, they _were_ kind of fun."

* * *

They lingered there as long as they were allowed, and Lydia outlined their return itinerary. "I've still got a couple days left of break," she said, "so I thought we could go back to the Neitherworld. Let everyone know everything's okay - I mean, apart from Vince, who I'm sure is all caught up on Tumblr."

"Here's a question," BJ said with a grin. "If you're the Princess of Beetles, what does that make me?"

"You'll have to take that up with your royal brother-in-law. I wouldn't presume to bestow a title," she replied, chuckling.

"Speaking of in-laws, have you heard from mine?"

"I called Dad last night and made it sound like we've been having so much fun we just forgot to check in. They're fine, but..." She grimaced. "Apparently Mom is very miffed that I didn't come home to go dress shopping or whatever it was she wanted to do. I'm starting to think that if we don't set a date, she's going to set one _for_ us, and we'll just show up for Thanksgiving dinner or something and find a surprise wedding waiting!"

He chewed his crickets and swallowed, looking thoughtful. "So what do you want to do, Babes?"

"It's kind of ridiculous, isn't it?" She laughed, although it was a slightly strangled laugh. "We're supposed to plan a wedding and we're already married! We've _been_ married for four years! Just... not here." She pinched the bridge of her nose. "Sorry. I know this is crazy."

"Hey, you know me, I love crazy. But what do you _want_ to do?"

"Believe me, I haven't forgotten your idea about eloping to Transylvania. So far it's still the best plan. If I didn't think it'd break Dad's heart, I'd be all for it." She swirled the ice in her water glass. "Really, I want something small. She wants to invite all those people she knows in New York and whatnot from her art career, and I've never even met most of them. I just want us, and my parents, and maybe Prudence and Bertha if they're around. Even having my aunts and uncles would be fine. Not people I don't know."

"Mmhmm. Go on."

"You really want to hear about this?"

"Well, yeah." He chuckled. "You gonna make your own dress again?"

"Oh, the dress. I actually found one, in all those magazines she sent, that I kind of liked. I mean, all the dresses are beautiful in their own way," she clarified, "but they aren't _me_. This one was different - look, I even took a picture of the page." She scrolled through her camera for a moment, then showed him. The dress was relatively simple, an off-white that seemed like it wouldn't be too overpowering for her pale skin, with a chapel train; a black satin sash wrapped around the waist, and all along the skirt was a sequence of intricately embroidered black flowers. "I'd add a little red to it, maybe the color of the sash, and some gloves. I really like it; I just don't think I could get Mom to agree."

"Probably not. Indoors or outdoors?"

"Outdoors would be nice. Not a cemetery," she added with a smile, "appropriate as it might be. But something with a lot of trees, like the garden at the park." She indicated her ring to remind him of where she meant. "There's probably something like that close to home. What about you?"

"Me?" He paused with another spoonful of crickets halfway to his mouth.

"Did you have any ideas?"

"Nah. Whatever you want's fine by me." He shrugged.

"You're easy to please," she teased him.

"Babes, like you said, we're already married. I'm not exactly in a position to complain."

* * *

Once BJ had consumed as many bug treats as the demonstration permitted, they wandered back out into Audubon Park and headed over to say their farewells to Hugo and Lady Delphine. "Thank you for all of your help," Lydia told the woman. "And for looking after BJ while I was gone."

"Oh, you're perfectly welcome, dear. Hugo, bring me that box." As her student moved to collect a small parcel from a shelf, Delphine continued, "We have a little something for you two. A special souvenir, you might say, of your time here."

"Believe me, Lady, we're not about to forget anything about this trip," BJ deadpanned.

"I haven't a doubt of it, lad. All the same, Hugo said something to me yesterday that gave me the idea for this." She opened the box and took out a pair of pendants, shaped somewhat like irregular black and white teardrops. "You're familiar with the emblems of yin and yang, I'm sure?"

"I've seen 'em. Don't completely get what they mean."

"To some extent, it depends on who you ask. Light and dark, good and evil, life and death." She gave them a pointed look. "Whatever you consider them to represent, they're unbreakably intertwined, and they each have a portion of the other residing within them. And Hugo observed, last night, that they're very well illustrated by the two of you." She held the pendants so that they fit together.

"Oh, I see," Lydia said thoughtfully, examining the symbol. "Wow. That's... I think I like that."

"Well, I sent him out to get these for the two of you." She handed the white half to BJ and the black half to Lydia.

"Don't you have this backwards?" BJ asked, amused. "Shouldn't Lyds get the white one?"

"Lydia is the yin to your yang. So I give you the yin pendant - to remind you, even when you are apart, that you are always together."

"Well... hey. I don't know what to say."

"'Thanks' might be nice," Lydia said, elbowing him gently.

"Okay, thanks." He chuckled.


	21. ...And Hold On Tight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lydia graduates. BJ plots. Charles...helps?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh yeah, he's up to something. So far, no one seems to have figured out exactly what, which pleases me because neither he nor I are very good at being subtle.

Beetlejuice was mildly chagrined to find that being married to the Neitherworld's Princess of Beetles did not, in fact, give him a courtesy title of his own. On the other hand, he was already the Ghost With the Most, and as Lydia pointed out, it was hard to beat that. (He suspected she might just be appealing to his ego to soothe him, but he wasn't going to argue.)

As part of the formal declaration of her new status, Lydia had decided to do what they'd discussed just before the anniversary party, and change the way she looked whenever she was in the Neitherworld. "To be honest, I kind of like the way I looked when I was dead," she admitted. "It was me, only... spookier, I guess. So that's how I'd like you to make me look when we're here."

"Fair enough, Babes, but how am I supposed to let you go home when you look like that?"

Her lips twitched with amusement. "You follow me there."

"Oh... I can do that."

Vince (who insisted they drop the "Prince") was perfectly happy to host them as much as they wanted, but the palace was a little too orderly and neat for Beetlejuice's liking, so they divided their time between Lydia's little suite and the Roadhouse. On the last day of her spring break, they found themselves in the royal gardens, where Lydia was completing her sketch of the flowers.

"Shame we can't just stay here," he remarked. "Your mom definitely can't bug you about the wedding when you're on another plane of existence!"

"Well, you're not wrong." She chuckled, glancing over at where he lounged in midair. "But I do have school to finish."

"Oh, you and your responsibilities. So which of these flowers do you like best?" She raised an eyebrow at him, clearly finding the question odd, and he clarified. "In case I ever do something stupid and need to swipe some for an apology, y'know." He twirled the yin pendant from Delphine around on his finger.

"Right, that seems likely," she retorted, smiling. "Well, you know I love the deadly nightshade. The moonflowers are also very pretty, although I still prefer calla lilies. I kept the prom corsage, you know, I dried it out and pressed it in my yearbook. Really, anything weird-looking will work; just don't ever give me roses, unless they're dead, because I'm allergic."

"Yeah, I haven't forgotten that you were Prince John's main sneeze. Wonder what ever happened to those guys, anyway."

"I'm sure we could find out if you really want to know."

"...nah."

One of the retainers walked into the garden at that moment. He bowed politely to Lydia and nodded at Beetlejuice. "Your Ladyship, the prince bids me advise you that he's taken the liberty of inviting your neighbors to dinner for your last evening with us. Everyone is expected to assemble within the hour."

"Oh - thank you. We'll be there." She shook her head as he walked away. "I can't get used to that bowing thing," she admitted quietly. "I know Vince made me a princess and everything, and I guess it's to be expected, but it's weird. I'm still the same person I was last week when nobody was bowing to me."

"Well, then, look on the bright side. Tomorrow it's back to the Outerworld, where nobody thinks you're a princess but me."

* * *

With her final project finished, exams in progress, and graduation looming, Lydia had enough to keep her occupied. Beetlejuice, once again in his BJ form, helped her pack up her dorm room for the last time. "We still didn't figure out where we're going to live," she noted, loading boxes into Doomie's trunk. "I mean, New Orleans is definitely an option, but I wouldn't mind not seeing it for a little while."

"I know what you mean. It's a fun town, but I'm not as sold on it as I was at first."

"Maybe we should just stick close to home for a bit. I can do some freelancing over the summer, you can set up your exterminator business or whatever it is you're going to do, and we can sit down and force ourselves to deal with this wedding mess." She sighed.

"It's gonna be fine, Babes, don't worry."

"I'm not worried, exactly, I just... wish it could be simpler. With college done, I don't have that as an excuse to put off planning the wedding. Really, what I'm afraid of is that I'll become so burned out on the whole thing that I'll just end up agreeing to whatever she decides she wants, and then after it's over I'll regret not having put my foot down."

"We could always tell them we eloped while we were in New Orleans," he suggested. "I mean, I wouldn't go into the details and tell them that a slightly dotty medium pronounced us idiot and wife in the middle of an alley after you vanquished an evil spirit, but it could count."

In spite of herself, Lydia giggled. "I suppose it could. I guess if we get desperate, we can do that - although I'm not sure even _that_ would deter Mother."

"When are they arriving, anyway?"

"Graduation is Wednesday, so they'll be here sometime on Tuesday. Dad's bringing a trailer to haul my dorm furniture, but he already knows I'll be riding back with you."

"Gotta give Doomie his exercise! Isn't that right, boy?"

"Meep meep!"

The truth was, BJ had something up his sleeve, and he kept thinking Lydia was going to catch on. She usually did, after all, and when it came to her he wasn't often subtle. So it surprised him that not only had she still not figured out _what_ he was up to, but as far as he could tell she hadn't even realized that he _was_ up to anything. "She must be even more distracted than I thought," he decided. "Not that I'm complaining."

* * *

He was honestly glad to see Charles and Delia. Admittedly, he was fond of them in his own weird way, but that wasn't really factoring into the feeling. They arrived Tuesday afternoon and got settled at their hotel, then the four of them loaded the trailer Charles had brought with Lydia's personal furnishings before a light supper. BJ was almost nervous, which he didn't like; he didn't get nervous, not usually. But he needed his father-in-law's help for what he had planned, and the whole thing made his stomach feel a little wibbly.

"Aren't you graduating too, BJ?" Delia asked him when he joined them in the audience for Lydia's ceremony.

"I actually finished in December. I just stayed down here because of Lyds - Dad's going to retire and I'm going to take over his business when I get home." He rolled his eyes in a good-natured expression. "I've got some plans for it."

The ceremony felt like it took forever, but finally Lydia had her diploma and they were on their feet cheering. It wasn't a very big college, really, so why the commencement would last so long made no sense. Then again, maybe it was just because of what he knew was coming.

There was, as ever, a barrage of picture taking - Lydia with her parents, Lydia with BJ, Lydia with just Charles, Lydia with just Delia, Lydia with her favorite photography professor, and a slightly awkward one of BJ and the three Deetzes, having recruited the professor for snapshooting duty. BJ watched for an opening, which finally arrived when Delia began assailing the poor professor about her own creative activities and Lydia attempted to stage an intervention.

"Hey, Mr. D... can I talk to you for a minute? Privately?"

"Uh... sure, BJ."

That Charles was confused, he expected and in truth didn't find surprising. They walked away from the others. "Now, I know I'm probably gonna come off like the bad guy here," BJ began, "but it's about the wedding."

"...you _are_ still getting married, right?"

"Oh, of course."

Charles relaxed, briefly. "And you don't _need_ to get married very quickly for any reason, do you?"

"No, no, nothing like that."

"Okay." He relaxed again. "So then what's the issue?"

"To be honest, it's Mrs. D. I know she wants to make this thing perfect for Lydia, and I can respect that" - good grief, he barely recognized himself in this charade - "but she's sort of driving Lyds batty."

"I was afraid of that. Delia's gone completely overboard with her ideas, and it seems like every day she's got a new one."

"So you understand my concerns."

"I do, but I'm not sure where you're going with this."

"Well, truth is, I offered to elope just to get around the whole thing. I think she'd have gone for it, but she really wants you there. Fair enough, I can't blame her. I just want her to be happy, Mr. D. And I had another idea based on something she said, but I need your help to pull it off."

Charles stopped walking and gave him a searching, thoughtful sort of look. BJ almost squirmed under the scrutiny. "Okay, tell me what you've got in mind."

* * *

"Where were you two?" Delia asked in surprise, when the two men rejoined them several minutes later.

"Oh, I had to show Mr. D where the men's room is," BJ improvised.

"Right. So, are we ready to go out to dinner, Pumpkin?"

"Sure, Dad." Lydia eyed BJ, but he kept his expression almost suspiciously innocent. "How about the Italian place in town? It's not far from your hotel, and then tomorrow we can get an early start on the ride home."

As they started walking to the car, Lydia fell back beside BJ. "What were you _really_ doing with Dad?" she asked quietly.

"Babes, don't you trust me?"

"Usually."

"Well, then, trust me now."


	22. There's Magic in the Air

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> BJ's surprise is revealed... or rather, surprises.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part of this chapter was inspired by something I once co-wrote with FFN's jellyjay. Part of it was inspired by some pictures I saw on Tumblr. And part of it... well, to be honest, I'm not quite sure. It's probably more than a little over the top, but as Bookworm Gal pointed out when I was fretting about that, "It's Beetlejuice. Over the top is his specialty."
> 
> I hope you love a happy ending as much as I do. :) Thanks for reading and reviewing! (And no, we're not quite done... the FAQ chapter I promised is coming next.)

At first, Lydia was somewhat preoccupied with the transition back to Peaceful Pines.

There was a lot to be done. She had to unpack everything she'd taken to college and put it back where it belonged, while at the same time sorting through her items and clearing out anything she didn't want to take with her when she moved out for good. She set about advertising her services as a freelance photographer for summer weddings and other events. In the evenings she went through listings in the newspaper, searching for her own place. (Charles insisted she didn't need to be worried about moving out immediately, but in truth, she was eager to put a little space between herself and Delia again. Much as the two women loved each other, being away at school had given Lydia a massive taste of freedom and she wasn't keen to relinquish it. Not to mention there was the whole wedding thing.) So for a little while, as May dissolved into a beautiful June, she was a little too distracted to notice certain... things.

However, with July looming on the horizon, she started to become aware of some peculiar developments. For one thing, BJ wasn't quite as available to her as he normally was, and that was too strange to pass notice for long. And when he did come over, he usually found an excuse to speak privately with her father, which was arguably even weirder. More than that, he looked entirely too pleased with himself as a general rule.

He was up to something. And she couldn't figure out what it was.

"Up to something? Me?" he inquired, much too innocent for her to even begin to believe it.

"Beetlejuice..."

"Hey, hey, no B word if you please. I'm in the middle of something very important here."

"What could be so important that you have to keep it a secret from me?"

"Gosh, Babes, I dunno. It's not like you have a _birthday_ coming up or anything..."

"Oh!" The notion that he might be plotting something for her birthday hadn't even crossed her mind. It would also quite possibly explain her father's involvement. "All right, then, I'll wait."

"Like I said before, just trust me. I promise, no explosions."

"Why am I not entirely comforted by that suspiciously specific denial?"

* * *

June 24th was Lydia's birthday, and it was a Sunday. It had always bothered her that her day was so far off from Halloween, but she had long since gotten used to the fact, and having Beetlejuice in her life pretty much meant that every day was Halloween anyway. She waited rather impatiently for him to show; he wasn't in the mirror at all, which very nearly worried her, but she was doing her best to trust him. Finally, around 4, she heard the telltale meeps as Doomie pulled up to the house.

Halfway down the stairs, however, she paused. Her father had answered the door and they were speaking quietly. She craned her neck, trying to hear. "You got it?" Charles inquired.

"Yeah. I couldn't have done it without you... gonna take her over and show her now. What about Mrs. D?"

"I broke it to her last night. She was..." Charles grimaced. "To say she wasn't happy would be the understatement of the year. I had to present it that you were doing this as a big surprise for Lydia and, well." He chuckled. "Once she got it into her head that it's a grand romantic gesture, she started coming around. Everything should be ready by Saturday."

"Great. I just hope this goes like I'm expecting."

"What about fixing -" Charles broke off his sentence when BJ lifted a hand, having spotted her on the stairs.

"Hey, Lyds! How's the birthday girl?"

Rats. "Hey, stranger. What do you have planned for tonight?"

"Oh, just you wait." He glanced at Charles. "No worries, Mr. D, everything's been taken care of already."

"All right. You kids have fun."

"Where are we going?" she asked suspiciously.

He just smirked. "C'mon."

It was a long drive - a good hour away from Peaceful Pines. It was an even quieter environs than the sleepy town, rolling green fields and thick tree lines broken by the occasional house or barn. She was just starting to become a little concerned when BJ pulled Doomie off the main road, turning onto what seemed to be a lengthy driveway. The property seemed to be a good two acres, bounded by a fence, and perhaps halfway down the drive he parked; they left the car and he pulled her by the hand down the walk. Half hidden in the trees was an abandoned cottage - Victorian, by the look of it, a small two-story building that she guessed must have once been a farmhouse. It was vaguely T shaped, with the front porch in the middle of the cross bar portion and the rest extending out the back. It had been white once, but now it was gloomy and gray with broken shutters and missing window panes. "Where are we, exactly?"

"Well, that depends. Do you like it?"

"After ten years I think you know this is exactly what I like. You should have told me to bring my camera."

"Not to worry, you'll have your chance to take pictures." He smirked and held up a key. "Want to go inside?"

She blinked. "Wait... what?"

"Happy birthday, Babes. You wanted a place - you've got one. Er, we've got one. Your dad helped me buy it."

Lydia gaped at him, then at the cottage, then at him again. "You're serious?"

"Well, it needs some work, I know... but..." He laughed when she cut him off with a fierce hug.

"You're crazy."

"You knew that already. So, want to go inside, or should I fix it up first? With my magic that's not gonna take real long."

"Hmm... much as I'd love to see the inside, this place looks like it's been abandoned for a long time. The floors might not hold." She went to sit down on the grass. "Let's see you work," she teased.

"Hmph." He snorted. "All right, then." He calmly snapped his fingers to regain his usual form, dressed like a carpenter, and proceeded to multiply himself into several copies. With a variety of tools, and humming his old "scum-de-dum-de-dum" tune, the Beetleclones at once attacked the old house, sending up a flurry of sawdust and paint drips.

Once the clouds of work dust cleared, only one BJ was left standing in front of the renovated cottage. He had kept the gray color, but freshly painted, and the eaves and window frames and front door were all now a glossy black. Lydia got to her feet and moved to join him, and he opened the door for her. "You can take charge of outfitting the inside with whatever you want. There's three little bedrooms upstairs, I figured you could make one your library or something," he said. "I kept the old fashioned stove in the kitchen, just because I thought you'd like the way it looked, but there's a more modern oven."

They walked around the little kitchen, dining room, and living room which chiefly comprised the downstairs, then peeked into the little rooms upstairs. "And for your convenience, there is now not only electricity but also... running water!" he added, briefly turning on the bathroom faucet. "Neither of which the place had when it was last occupied."

"How in the _world_ did you afford this?"

"Wasn't that expensive, actually; the land's been up for sheriff's sale for a while, your dad said. Chuckie helped me find it and took care of all the legal crap, and he thinks my 'dad' is paying for the renovations." He looked, once again, entirely too pleased with himself. "So you like it?"

"It's everything I could have wanted," she said truthfully.

"Well, not quite everything, but that's what Saturday's for."

"Yeah, about that - I heard Dad say something about Saturday. What did that mean?"

BJ smirked. "Come on, got something else to show you."

* * *

Behind the house, a little further into the trees, they came to a small clearing. It had a large boulder erected upright, somewhat like a pillar, and then a sequence of stone benches more or less pointed at it. "Thought of this when I was looking through one of those silly wedding magazines in your room," he explained. Seeing her surprised look, he added, "Hey, I have to do something to amuse myself when you're not there. Anyway, you're gonna be a photog, so when someone wants just a little bitty wedding, we can rent this out and you'll take their pictures."

"Okay, but what..." Lydia trailed off, staring at him.

"Yeah. Your dad helped me with that too. Your parents, and your aunts and uncles, and Burp and Prune - they're all coming over on Saturday to help us break it in." BJ watched her stunned face with clear amusement. "You're getting the quiet outdoor wedding you wanted. The dress you showed me is in the closet upstairs, with those alterations you described - the red sash and so on."

" _BJ, are you serious?_ "

"Hey, I wasn't gonna let Delia ruin this for you!" He groaned slightly, chuckling, as she flung herself at him a second time. "There's two other guests coming, though."

"...Mr. Beetleman?" she guessed, giggling.

"Haha, no. Chuckie thinks he's retired to Florida with his new wife and is too busy with surfing lessons. No, we worked something out special so that Donny and Vince can be here."

"Wait, Donny? You invited your brother?"

"This time, yeah. Because I invited yours. It... was fair." He squirmed a little, disliking being caught saying such a thing. "Donny's gonna take the pictures, since you'll be a little busy, and Vince is going to be the whaddyacallit. Best man." He sobered. "Your dad said I had to have one, and well, Vince took care of you when I couldn't. That kind of makes him the best man I know."

"...you're going to make me cry if you keep this up."

"Please, no, anything but that. So - you up for a party on Saturday? Combination housewarming and wedding? We'll call it a housewedding." He laughed at his own joke.

"I think my calendar is free."

* * *

It was probably on the morning of the wedding that Lydia finally fully comprehended that no, he was really not joking about any of it. She hadn't had much chance to think about it before then, what with all the activity of moving her things to the new house and doing silly domestic things like picking out curtains. But around noon, the guests started showing up, and her giggly friends piled into the bedroom to help her put on her gown.

It still didn't quite feel real, she thought, walking down the stairs and glancing around at _their house_. It was still sparsely decorated, but she had plenty of time for that. One of the spare rooms would be designated for a library, as BJ had suggested, and the other she thought she might use as a sewing room-photography studio combination. With so many empty walls, she had plenty of space to hang up her favorite photographs, and they were planning to build a two-car garage so Doomie and Pinky would both be on hand. The Roadhouse, she thought, was probably going to be used even less than it had been; they might have to start regarding it as a vacation home.

She fully expected her father to be waiting for her on the front step, but instead it was the bridegroom - dressed just as he'd been for her prom, four years earlier.

"Your dad said he thought it might be better for me to walk you out there," he explained. "That way he can keep an eye on Delia and make sure she doesn't try to redecorate anything while we're distracted. Seems a bit silly to have him give you away anyway, all things considered. The judge came with them, so they're just waiting for us."

"I'm still in shock that you did all this."

"Hey, I can be pretty sneaky when I want to be. I think we're ready... I feel like I'm forgetting something, though."

Lydia chuckled. "You haven't mentioned that you're my idiot, is that it?"

"Oh, hm. I _was_ gonna say I love you, but that works too."

She stared at him. "You said it. You hate saying it."

"Yeah, so don't get used to it." He closed one eye playfully.

"I wouldn't dream of it." She laughed. "Well, then, shall we?"

"I'm all yours." He gave her his arm, and they headed back toward the little clearing.

_~Fin~_


	23. The Contractually Obligated Chaos FAQ

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lady Norbert answers questions and tries to sound clever.

As you may know if you've read any of my older long fanworks, I am in the habit of sometimes crafting FAQ chapters at the end, where I answer questions which were posed to me in reviews, private messages, or other forms of communication. So that's what this is. And yes, I really did get asked _all_ of these!

To clarify one thing first - "Contractually Obligated Chaos" is the name I have given to the series. So that's the name of the FAQ too. After all, it all started with the Fairy Godfather's contract.

* * *

**What inspired you to write a _Beetlejuice_ story in the first place?**

Well, I did explain this way back at the start, but I'll recap. To put it simply, this silly cartoon was my favorite show when it was on. I was a young teenager (yes, I am old) and it appealed to my imagination and my funny bone and everything. In January of 2016, I was looking for the DVDs on Amazon one afternoon when I was nursing a cold, and while I did find them, I also found a website where I could watch them all for free instead. Best sick day I've had in years. Anyway, after that binge marathon I had ideas chasing themselves around in my head, so I gave up and started writing a story. Then I made Andrea (the self-appointed bodyguard) watch the show and she asked how long until there was fanfic, and I had to admit there already was some. She poked me until I posted it, and here we are.

* * *

**Is there a reason why you chose to use the cartoon instead of the movie version?**

Don't get me wrong, I'm very fond of the movie. It was actually one of my favorite movies when I was a teenager; I'd still class it in my top 25 or so. But I always had much greater affection for the cartoon, partly because it kept me scratching my head about exactly what the relationship between Beetlejuice and Lydia was supposed to _be_. You could say I was shipping it before I knew what shipping was. (And thanks to TV Tropes, I know now that this was deliberate on the part of the writers and animators; they were all shipping it too.) It should also be noted that the cartoon had a heavy impact on my sense of humor; while rewatching it all these years later, I was amazed to find that a lot of the things I have a tendency to say actually came from the cartoon, and I had forgotten.

* * *

**How did you come up with the idea of Lydia getting a portion of Beetlejuice's power?**

I'm trying to remember, to be honest. Initially, the Fairy Godfather was going to be a very shady character who was just yanking on BJ's chain and making his afterlife difficult because he could. But I couldn't work out what was going on with the juice if that was the case. So I rewrote it to make him more of a rules stickler, but then that brought up the question of why BJ couldn't give him all the juice. Where would it be? I sent them off on the run in the hopes that I'd eventually figure it out, and I could buy myself some time by giving them some wacky adventures on the road. Then it crossed my mind that even when he put on the shoes and depowered himself, Lydia still had the means to summon and banish him. Having her in possession of part of his magic was the only thing that made any sense to me.

In the interest of fairness, I also should point out that in one of her reviews, Bookworm Gal theorized that this was possibly the case. I can't honestly remember if she made that guess before or after I decided that was the answer, so either she gave me the idea or we were on the same wavelength. Either is equally possible.

* * *

**Why did you write a sequel to _Cinderjuice_?**

I finished the first story and decided that was it, I was done, time to get back to _Fullmetal Alchemist_. And then I had a single line of dialogue pop into my head, and I liked it too much not to use it and give it to the character to whom it so obviously belonged. So then I had to construct a story for it. The line was all I had to start; I didn't know why he would say it or to whom he would be speaking or anything else. That all got hashed out with help from the beta readers.

Quite literally, _The Bug Princess_ exists because in my mind, I could hear BJ saying the first line he says to Hugo: "Bub, you got about five seconds to get your hand off my wife or we're gonna have a problem."

I have written stories for worse reasons, I admit.

* * *

**Why did you decide on doing _The Princess and the Frog_? Did you like the fairy tale or did you just want to write about New Orleans?**

Both of those were a factor. To be honest, it was a toss-up between that and _Tangled_ , but while the idea of sticking Lydia in a tower and making her hair grow to ridiculous lengths amused me, it didn't make a whole lot of sense. I had a chat with Lais, one of my beta readers, and she helped me make the tough choice. Though I like ClockworkAnnie's later suggestion that BJ would lock them both in the _Tangled_ tower because "the plot will never find us here, Babes!"

* * *

**Where did you get Erebos, Hugo, and Lady Delphine?**

Much of the credit here must be extended to Bookworm Gal, who volunteered to help me with research while I was having technical difficulties. She sent me several names in a variety of languages which had significance of some kind to the situation, and I picked three and fashioned the characters from there. (She also did a lot of the research about New Orleans. I genuinely can't thank her enough for her help.)

Hugo is based, in part, on Milo from _Atlantis: The Lost Empire_ and also my beloved Shad from _The Legend of Zelda: Twilight Princess_. However, he has less sense than Shad in some ways, as you might have noticed.

Erebos is, naturally, somewhat inspired by the Shadow Man from _The Princess and the Frog_. But he also contains shades of Pitch Black, from _Rise of the Guardians_ , as well as the villain from a very obscure (and frankly awful) anti-drug cartoon I remember with considerable amusement from my youth.

As for "the lady in blue," Lady Delphine is filling the role of Mama Odie, of course. But her personality is partly modeled on my own. I'm not much into talking to spirits, but I do have a tendency to take in strays.

* * *

**Why didn't you do all the classic voodoo stuff? It was the right place for it, right?**

It was, but I really wanted to leave it fairly vague. I didn't want to run the risk of insulting anyone's religious beliefs or spreading erroneous information.

* * *

**Is Erebos truly gone for good?**

As far as I'm concerned, yes. I have no plans to bring him back. He may, as Delphine said, have escaped to another plane of existence, but he won't be bothering our heroes again.

* * *

**Did Hugo learn a valuable lesson from all this about randomly trying to drag pretty young ladies away from graveyards or is he likely to dive head first into a mess again?**

Hugo learned quite a bit from this experience. More than anything, he's learned that he still has a lot to learn, especially when it comes to partially dead young women and their considerably more dead overprotective husbands. I'm going to miss him, actually, I grew rather fond of both him and Lady Delphine.

* * *

**Did you originally plan for Prince Vince and Lydia to end up as adopted siblings or did that idea come later?**

Much later. I had fixed on the idea of kissing a princess to break the spell, of course, and I wanted to try to find a way to make the title fit, but not much was developing that made any sort of logical sense. And then out of nowhere, it fell into place and I wondered how I didn't see it sooner. Not only did it fill in the gaping plot hole I had dug, but I think it fits their relationship extremely well.

* * *

**Does Lydia becoming a princess mean that Beetlejuice is now a prince or does he just count as a consort?**

"Princess of Beetles" is just a courtesy title - Lydia has absolutely no authority whatsoever, in terms of governance, although if Vince were somehow incapacitated she _could_ fill in for a bit... *puts that plot bunny away for consideration* Save that guy for later. Anyway, no, BJ gains no title through marriage. But like she told him, "Ghost With the Most" is hard to top.

* * *

**How in the world does Lady Delphine know the Fairy Godfather?**

I don't know, to be honest. She refuses to tell me. But if I ever find out, I'll let you know.

* * *

**Is there going to be a sequel? And if so, when and is it based on a Disney movie/fairy tale too?**

Yeah, I'm going to have to do one more, I think. (I'm going to try to stop at three; we'll see what happens. I don't trust my brain as far as I can throw it.) You can expect _Sleeping Beetle_ , which is of course a take on _Sleeping Beauty_ , to start appearing in April 2016; I'm taking a break until after I attend Zenkaikon over April Fool's Day weekend.

* * *

**Credits, Thanks, and All That Jazz**

I am incredibly indebted to my little staff of beta readers.

~ Erin and Kourie were usually rather quiet, but when they did have something to say, it was always helpful and encouraging.

~ Ada not only beta read for me but also did the beautiful artwork for _Cinderjuice_ , which can be found on the TV Tropes page for these stories. She's going to do more for me when her schedule permits, too. She is the artist and writer on the marvelous webcomic _Cobweb & Stripes_, to which I'm addicted; it's a beautiful thing, extending the story of the _Beetlejuice_ film and merging details from the cartoon into the plot. You will get hooked, but you should totally go for it; find it on deviantArt, Facebook, or Tumblr.

~ Lais is a Lydia cosplayer, and she and her adorable boyfriend are the cutest Beetlejuice and Lydia on the planet. Look for them on Facebook under "Harley Quinn Brazilian Cosplay."

~ Bookworm Gal, as I mentioned, has been a simply invaluable asset in terms of research, spitballing, and support. I'm currently making my way through her excellent story _Say It Thrice_ , which is a crossover of the _Beetlejuice_ film and the cartoon _Danny Phantom_. It's very rich and detailed and dark and yikes. Super good. Do yourself a favor and read it.

Also, thanks to Numbervania for telling me about the bug museum's cafe, and to ClockworkAnnie for her excited reviews.

Thanks to the Kisscartoon website for hosting the cartoon and making it possible for me to revisit my youth.

Obviously, I do not own anything related to the _Beetlejuice_ franchise, nor _The Godfather,_ nor any of the Disney films turned upside down in these stories. Credit to the original creators of these things.

All hail the Burton.

Thanks to all the reviewers, all the new friends I made through this fandom, and everyone else reading this!

_Until the next time I venture someplace scary, I remain_

_Lady Norbert_


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